From Southampton to New York and Beyond
by Dorothea Greengrass
Summary: Harry takes a sabbatical and decides to spoil himself with a world cruise. However, he finds an unexpected travel companion. WARNING: Ron, Ginny, Molly bashing, Hermione bashing, main character death
1. From Southampton to New York

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

Autor's notes: This is planned to be the first of a multi chapter story. However, I have no idea if or when I have the time to work on the next installment, so for the time being I wrote this as a stand alone. Contrary to cannon, Daphne is an only child. Teddy Lupin was never born, so Harry has no relation to Andromeda.

Part One – From Southampton to New York

Ginny and I got together again the day after the battle. We separated before the end of May, not even three weeks later. I wish I could say we just didn't work, but it was not as simple as that. I thought our shared experiences with the Horcrux in the diary that had possessed Ginny and the piece of Tom inside of me should give us some common ground to start from and help each other to get over it. Man, I've never been so wrong. She was terrified of me and could hardly look at me, lest touch me after I'd told her. But she'd also clung so long to the idea of being together with the Boy-Who-Lived that she couldn't let me go. When I finally decided to put an end to our relationship, it wasn't pretty.

Hermione and Ron weren't there to run interference. They'd left for Australia right after the funerals to search for Hermione's parents and had not yet returned. I'm not sure they could have helped, though. In the long run, my break-up with Ginny also cost me my best friends. Ron didn't take it kindly that I'd dumped his little sister yet again. Hermione was torn in the fight between her boyfriend and her best friend, so I made it easy for her and distanced myself from her.

I felt uncomfortable staying at the Burrow any longer and moved to Grimmauld Place. After three weeks of renovating the house with Kreacher's help and spending my nights drinking, I finally admitted to myself I couldn't go on like that any longer. I swallowed my pride and asked Kingsley for help and he recommended a Squib psychotherapist, who knew about the Wizarding World, so that I could talk to him without breaking the Statute of Secrecy or having to be afraid to be carried off to the lunatic asylum. Mr Freid really helped a lot. He encouraged me not to return to Hogwarts in September and not to begin with Auror training, which I had thought I was duty bound to do. Considering the lifespan of more than hundred years for the average wizard, he reasoned I still had time enough to think of a career. Especially, since money was not really an issue for me.

The problems with the Goblins that were to be expected after my little stunt with their bank and their dragon had been sorted out by Kingsley the day after the battle. I was baffled – and touched – when he told me about it. I'd never have thought of asking him for help. I knew before that I was rich, but now I found out that I was filthy rich, even by Muggle standards. I'd never have to work in my life if I didn't want to. With this option on my hands, I decided to follow Mr Freid's advice, take a sabbatical and have fun.

And that's why I found myself on the balcony of a suite at the bow of the luxury cruise ship "Princess Isabella" one late afternoon in early January and watched how the ship left Southampton behind. I hadn't been bored until late October. The renovation of Grimmauld Place no 12 by magic was as fascinating as it was time consuming, but when it was finished, I didn't know what to do with myself. I had lost what I considered to be my family. Neville and Luna both had returned to Hogwarts for their seventh year, and I suddenly realised that I hadn't any other friends. When I walked through London one afternoon and saw the advertisement of a world cruise in the window of a travel agency, I went in and booked on the spur of the moment.

Little did I know back then that it would turn out to be the best decision I'd ever made. Certainly I didn't know it that early January afternoon when the stiff, cold breeze finally forced me to retreat back into the suite. It was getting dark, and I turned on the lights in the amazingly spacious living room before I went to the well-stocked bar and poured myself a whisky. I've been initiated to booze with Firewhisky, but the rich beverage that swirled in the glass in my hand couldn't be compared to that. No wizard should ever admit it, but it was much better. While I sipped my drink, I decided against having dinner at one of the restaurants the ship offered. I'd booked a cruise with a "casual" dress code, but that still meant suit in the evening. I wasn't in the mood to get changed just to get my dinner.

Eventually, I ordered my dinner to my suite, along with a nice bottle of wine. After dinner I settled down in the living room and treated myself to a movie night with the impressing selection of DVDs the ship offered. However, I'd had a long day, and the slight rolling of the ship, together with the fresh salty air, made me extremely tired and I turned in rather early.

I woke up in the middle of the night to the cry of a woman. My heart pounded. I listened into the darkness, not sure if the cry had been real or a nightmare. No, there it was again!

'Please, mum! Put it down, mum! You'll hurt us! MUM! NO!'

Next thing I knew was the sound of an explosion from the adjoining suite and a wave of strong magic rolled over me as I heard two bodies thudding to the ground.

I jumped out of the bed and grabbed for my wand. Without bothering with my bathrobe I ran out of my suite in my pyjama bottoms. I knocked on the door of the adjoining suite, but no one answered. I looked around. The corridor was empty. No one, except me, seemed to have heard the commotion in the suite. I turned the door knob, but the door was locked. The corridor still was empty, so I whispered 'Alohomora!' and pushed the door open.

The suite was dark. No one was in the small hall or in the living room, as I'd expected. The door to the adjoining bedroom was ajar. A narrow trickle of light poured through the gap and onto the carpet of the living room. I inched closer, wand at the ready, and peered into the bedroom.

In front of me, on the thick carpet, lay a woman. Her face was hidden behind the curtain of her long, honey blonde hair. She wore a plum coloured bathrobe, made of a velvety material, over her nightgown. Slumped over the bed lay a middle-aged woman on her back. She only wore a lacy, yellow nightgown. The colour of her hair, also a rich honey blonde, suggested that she might be related to the young woman at my feet. Her empty eyes stared at the ceiling of the room. Her hand was clutched around an ebony wand.

I quickly made my way over to the bed and ran a basic diagnostic charm over the woman. Hermione had taught it to me during the time we were alone on the run, insisting it would come in handy when I was an Auror. She'd been right, though I hadn't expected to have to use this special charm while I was on a pleasure cruise.

The diagnosis came up with the result I'd dreaded. The woman was dead. Since she wouldn't need help anymore, I turned to the woman on the floor. Carefully, I rolled her on her back to check for her vital signs. I startled. The face in front of me was familiar. I'd seen it every day at Hogwarts, across the Great Hall at the Slytherin Table. I needed a few seconds until I came up with the name that belonged to that face. Greengrass. Daphne, my memory supplied some time later while I was already checking her vital signs.

She was alive and not hurt, as far as I could tell. Her faint was probably caused by the huge magical outburst I'd felt. There was no wand beside her. Neither did she have a wand on her body, I concluded a few moments later when I finished scanning her body for it. The heat had crept into my cheeks, and I was glad she was still unconscious. I didn't want to appear awkward in front of a Slytherin. Even worse, she'd probably hex off my bits if she thought I'd tried to feel her up.

I went back to the bed and pried the ebony wand out of the grasp of the dead woman. When I performed 'Priori Incantatem' with it, my eyes went wide. I hadn't expected the Killing Curse to come out.

Pocketing the wand, I went back to Greengrass. 'Enervate!'

She stirred and groaned and then reluctantly opened her eyes. For a short moment, she was disorientated. Then she jumped up and flung herself over the woman on the bed.

'Mum! Wake up, Mum! Please, Mum, talk to me! MUM!'

When she got no response, she backed away from her dead mother, the dread of understanding written on her face. 'No ... no...That can't be true. No, Mum, please, don't leave me alone, Mum. MUM!' she wailed and it broke my heart. I'd witnessed the deaths of my friends at the battle and grieved with their relatives, but yet I still wasn't used to deal with grief.

Her eyes darted around and finally rested on me, but showed no sign of recognising me. 'Help her, please! You've got to do something!' she pleaded.

I stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch or back away. Instead, her eyes still pleaded with me to help her dead mother.

'It's too late,' I said. My voice was thick and I had to clear my throat. 'She was already dead when I found her. She had this in her hand.' I pulled the ebony wand from the pocket of my pyjama bottoms.

Greengrass' eyes went wide with fear. 'Uh... That's a hairpin my mother used to put up her hair with,' she said.

Her presence of mind was admirable, I had to give her that. Even with the horrible shock she'd just received, she was still keeping the Statute of Secrecy in mind. My estimation of her rose a notch – from zero to zero point five, maybe.

'You don't have to be careful around me. I know about magic,' I replied. 'Whose wand is that?'

'It's mine,' she whispered.

Damn, that complicated things. 'Care to tell me why the last spell cast with this wand was the Killing Curse?' I asked as calmly as I could.

Her shoulders slumped and she let her head hang down, but I didn't get an answer.

'For Merlin's sake, Greengrass! We're on a Muggle cruise ship, your mother is dead and it looks as if Dark Magic has been performed with your wand. You're in deep shit. The Muggle authorities will ask questions, and you'd better come up with a reasonable explanation for whatever happened,' I said, barely refraining from gripping her shoulders and shaking some sense into her.

'You're right,' she finally answered. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. It was then when she recognised me.

'Potter! What are you doing here?' she gasped.

'Enjoying the first night of my world cruise,' I replied, at once regretting my choice of words.

However, she took no offence, what I thought rather strange for a Slytherin. 'Sorry to disturb your fun,' she said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear with her fingers. 'Mum and I are – were – on our way to the United States. Dad was killed by Death Eaters shortly before the Battle of Hogwarts. Mum was put under the Torture Curse and...' Her voice broke. I saw tears in her eyes and she bit her lower lip.

She didn't have to tell me more. Anyone who'd had experienced the Torture Curse and who knew of the fate of Frank and Alice Longbottom knew where her story headed. I'd been treated to the Torture Curse by the best, Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself, and I knew the Longbottoms.

'She's been tortured into oblivion,' I stated and Greengrass nodded.

Tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. 'The healers at 's couldn't help her. But they told me about a new treatment developed in the United States. However, they didn't recommend travel by international Portkey for Mum, so I booked a passage to New York on a cruise ship. We had to get a suite, because obviously she can't – couldn't – mingle with the other passengers. It was hard. She didn't know where she was. She didn't recognise me as her daughter anymore. Tonight ... tonight she thought I was a Death Eater. Somehow she got hold of my wand. She pointed it at me and chanted the Killing Curse. The healers had warned me to prevent her from using any magic. Her magic is – was - so disrupted that it could have disastrous results. They were right. When she cast the Killing Curse, the curse got off, but next I knew was I was knocked out by an explosion.' She clapped her hands before her face and sobbed.

I winced. Though I'd got a lot of experience comforting Ginny during the first weeks after the battle, I still was uncomfortable around crying women. I tried what always helped best with Ginny, pulled her in my arms and rubbed her back with my hands in circular moves. While I did so, I thought about my next moves.

Her story fitted with what I'd overheard in my suite. While I wasn't able to perform Legilimency on her or had any Veritaserum with me, my gut told me she'd been honest with me. I waited until her sobs subsided.

'Why don't you sit down in the living room and I call the ship's doctor?' I asked and she nodded. I led her to the sofa in the living room. After she'd sat down, I picked up the phone and called the ship's hospital.

Minutes later, Greengrass' suite teemed with people. The doctor and his nurse arrived first and went straight into the bedroom. Then came the butler, who alarmed the cruise director. After the doctor came out of the bedroom and pronounced Mrs Geengrass dead, the captain was informed and arrived shortly after.

Greengrass sat on the sofa and obviously was in no shape to talk to them. So, I gave them a carefully reviewed version of what I'd heard. I told them I'd been awoken by Miss Greengrass frantic cries and, realising that it was an emergency, ran over to her suite. There I'd discovered Mrs Greengrass on the bed and her daughter in a state of shock and unable to help her, so I'd called the doctor and tried what little first aid I knew.

'There was nothing you could have done to save her, Mr Potter,' the doctor stated. 'She died of a sudden heart failure, probably because of a pre-existing medical condition. But sometimes this comes seemingly out of the blue and happens to a person who seems to be perfectly healthy.'

'Miss Greengrass mentioned health problems. They took the trip to New York by ship because her mother's condition forbade other means of travelling, and they were going to look for an alternative treatment of her mother's condition in the USA,' I told the doctor, and he nodded.

'That confirms my diagnosis,' he said, and I barely managed not to breathe a huge sigh of relief. The last thing I needed in this situation was the Muggle authorities being suspicious of the cause of Mrs Greengrass' death. It would be a nightmare of its own to deal with the repercussions in the Wizarding World. The member of a prominent, supposedly at least borderline dark Pureblood family died on a Muggle ship, the Chosen One was the first to arrive on the scene and discovered that the Killing Curse had been performed with the wand of the deceased's daughter. It couldn't get any worse, and I could already see the headlines of the "Daily Prophet" in my mind: _Chosen One Discovers Prominent Pureblood Witch Dead on Muggle Ship! Daughter Cast Killing Curse! Murder or Lover's Tragedy?_ Ugh, I certainly didn't need that, and neither did Greengrass. Her life was crappy enough right now, with having lost both parents in the span of not even a year.

The Captain and the cruise director then turned to Greengrass. They offered their condolences to her and promised to be of assistance in any preparations that needed to be made. 'Is there anyone who should be told of the demise of your mother, Miss Greengrass?' the cruise director asked.

Greengrass gulped and shook her head. 'My father is dead. I'm an only child, and so were both of my parents. There's no one left of my family than me.'

An expression of pity flickered across his features, and he said, 'I wish I could offer you a different cabin to stay at for the rest of the journey to New York, Miss Greengrass. Unfortunately, I can't. We are fully booked.'

I didn't know what possessed me, but when I saw Geengrass' forlorn and inconsolable expression, I suggested, 'You're welcome to stay in the living room of my suite for the rest of the trip, Greengrass.'

I could have slapped myself the moment the words were out, but then I was rewarded with the most sincere and relieved smile I'd ever got from a Slytherin. 'Thank you, Potter. That's very considerate of you. I'll gladly accept your offer.'

The cruise director looked from Greengrass to me. 'You know each other?'

'We went to the same boarding school in Scotland,' I explained, which seemed to satisfy him.

He gave the butler a small nod, and the butler disappeared to pack off Greengrass' belongings and bring them to my suite. While the butler was packing, I made awkward small talk with the cruise director and the captain. We were interrupted by the doctor and the nurse who rolled the stretcher with Mrs Greengrass body out of the bedroom. Greengrass broke out in fresh sobs, and again I put an arm around her and comforted her.

The doctor motioned the nurse with a small gesture to go ahead without him and turned to Greengrass. 'Miss Greengrass, would you like me to give you something to soothe you, a sleeping pill, perhaps?'

Greengrass shook her head. 'Thank you, doctor, but I rather not take any drugs.'

'All right, if you insist.' He shook hands with both of us, nodded at the cruise director and the captain and then left. The captain and the cruise director also bade their good byes, again offering Greengrass their support.

We left the suite right after them and went into mine, followed by the butler with Greengrass' luggage. While the butler went to the walk-in wardrobe to put her things away, Greengrass sat down on the sofa. It was one of these huge lounges, made for lazy afternoons with a good book, and could easily seat ten. Part of it had already been turned into a bed for Greengrass, but there was still room enough to sit down.

Not knowing what to say or do, I went straight to the bar and poured two whiskies. I put one tumbler on the coffee table in front of Greengrass and intended to take mine with me in my bedroom, when she said, 'Please, stay with me, Potter.' Her voice sounded pleading.

It would have been heartless to leave her alone in her obvious grief, so I sat down in the corner of the sofa and sipped my whisky, waiting until she was ready to talk, but prepared to sit with her all night in silence if she wanted that.

We didn't spea until the butler had left the suite. 'I owe you an explanation,' Greengrass started after the door had closed behind him.

I raised my hand and shook my head. 'You owe me nothing, Greengrass. If you need someone to talk to or to keep you company because you don't want to be alone, that's fine with me, but please, don't feel compelled to do anything out of a sense of obligation.'

She stared at me for a long time. Then she picked up the glass in front of her and took a sip, still staring at me over the rim. 'You're not at all like I was told you'd be,' she remarked after she'd put the glass back on the coffee table.

'If your source happened to be Malfoy, you're probably in for a surprise or a disappointment, depending on your expectations. It's no secret that we both saw only the worst in the other while we were at school.'

Greengrass chuckled mirthlessly at that. 'Yeah, your fights at school have become Hogwarts legend. I'd not be surprised, though, if he and his cronies gave you a dislike for everything Slytherin. The more I appreciate your help tonight, Potter.'

My attitude to Malfoy and by default to the other Slytherins had been one of the many issues I'd worked on with Mr Freid the previous six months. I'd come to the conclusion that Malfoy was a backstabbing coward who'd do anything to save his own hide, but not the evil foe my teenage me had made him, especially in my sixth year. It had been rather humiliating to find out that I'd acted as childish and prejudiced towards him as he did to me. When I finally realised that Malfoy was the product of his education by his Death Eater dad and that most of his actions during the war were motivated by the desire not to get his parents killed by Voldemort, I actually learned to pity the poor bloke. With pity came forgiveness. My changed attitude to Malfoy also lead to a changed attitude to the rest of the house. Admittedly, they had always taken Malfoy's side in any of our fights, but that was only to be expected. My housemates had always taken my side, too, without asking. None of the other Slytherins outside of Malfoy's small circle of cronies had ever actively harassed me, so I learned to give them the benefit of the doubt.

That all went through my head in quick succession while I contemplated Greengrass' words, and I sighed. 'Malfoy was a git back at school, and so was I. I hope I grew up since then and know better.'

Again, we relapsed into silence. Greengrass' hands fidgeted with the ends of the belt of the bathrobe in her lap. Her face was the unmoved mask I knew from our school days, betraying nothing of her feelings. It was all in her eyes. Dark and troubled, they looked down on her hands, not seeing. While I watched, a tear rolled down her cheeks and splashed on her hands, then another. Greengrass didn't seem to notice.

'I'm glad Mum is finally at peace and together with Dad,' she whispered. She picked up her glass and emptied it in one swig.

My glass was also empty, so I stood up and got the bottle. I'd always found it was easier to talk if you hadn't to look your opposite into the eyes, so I said, with my back turned to her, 'I'm sorry about your father, Greengrass.'

As I'd hoped, that made her talk. 'It happened before the Battle of Hogwarts, but I didn't find out until after the battle. When you appeared at Hogwarts with Granger and the Weasel in tow, and McGonagall evacuated the castle, I went to Hogsmeade with the rest of my house. But I only pretended to leave Hogsmeade for my parent's house and came back to the castle with Slughorn, some of the older students and the inhabitants of Hogsmeade.'

I was glad I'd turned my back to her, so she couldn't see the surprise in my face. I'd been told that an amazing number of upper class men and alumni from Slythetin had joined the fight together with Slughorn and the inhabitants of Hogsmeade, among them Varsey, Pucey and Higgs from the Quidditch team and Zabini and Nott from my year, to name a few, but I'd had no idea that Greengrass had also joined the battle. With the bottle in my hand, I walked back to the sofa and sat down. Greengrass didn't pay attention while I refilled her glass and then mine. The floodgates had opened and she was in desperate need to get rid of the memories that haunted her.

'We were held up by the gates. Slughorn and some bloke with flaming red hair started throwing hexes at the gates, but they wouldn't open at first. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the gates opened. We poured onto the grounds, where already a battle was going on. Hexes and curses were flying everywhere, and I was out of my depth. I mean, I've failed my Defence OWLs, and here I was, fighting a battle against the most powerful dark wizard that ever was and his minions. What was I thinking? It's a miracle I survived the battle without a scratch.'

She picked up the glass and downed its content without even flinching. If she went on like that, she'd be pissed within another thirty minutes.

'I was swept into the castle with the fighting masses. At that point, I simply cast Shield Charms not to get caught in the crossfire. I ended in the Great Hall, like everyone, it seemed. Eventually, the fighting deceased. Everyone was concentrating on the fights between the monster and Shacklebolt and Slughorn and the fight between Lestrange, Granger, Lovegood and the Weaslette.' Greengrass poured herself another whisky and gulped it down, while I still held my second drink in my hands.

'What about the Weaslette, by the way? Weren't the two of you together? Where is she?' She looked around as if she supposed Ginny to come out of one of the closets any second.

'She's at Hogwarts, I suppose. We didn't work out,' I replied. Thinking of Ginny and our break-up still hurt, but it got better with each day that passed.

'I'm sorry,' Greengrass mumbled and poured herself another glass. This time, however, she didn't dump down the whisky immediately, but twirled the glass between her hands.

'You know what happened next. Weaslette's mum stepped in and killed Lestrange, and then you saved her from the monster's Killing Curse with a simple _Protego_. You know that shouldn't have been possible, don't you? There is no shield and no counter curse against the Killing Curse, and yet you made it work. I've never seen a shield that powerful before.' Her voice sounded awed. 'How did you do it?'

I winced uncomfortably. She was quickly delving into topics I neither was free to discuss or wanted to discuss. She was right, I shouldn't have been able to hold off Voldemort's Killing Curse with a simple _Protego_. Of course, it had been my willing sacrifice of my life in the forest that protected everyone that night, but that was something I wasn't prepared to discuss outside the circle of my closest friends.

Greengrass interpreted my silence right, for she asked, 'Classified information, huh? You don't have to tell me, Potter, if you aren't free to discuss this.' She looked down at the twirling liquid in her glass and then raised her head and looked into my eyes. For the first time since I knew her I realised she had the most amazing blue eyes I'd ever seen. It was a deep sapphire, almost violet blue.

'It was the happiest moment of my life when your Disarming Charm overcame the monster's Killing Curse,' she said quietly. She downed the next whisky. Putting the glass on the coffee table, she sighed. 'You know how hell broke loose immediately after that. I celebrated with my classmates from Slytherin and some of the Ravenclaws until midday, I think. Then we all bunked in one of the classrooms. I was so tired I slept through until the next morning. By then the Aurors had already arrived to take our statements about the battle. I was questioned by them until almost midnight and wasn't allowed to contact my home. The next morning I was finally able to leave Hogwarts and Floo back home. When I stepped out of the Floo ... When I ...' Fresh tears spilled from her eyes and she couldn't go on.

'I didn't have a home anymore,' she finally managed to gasp. 'The house was destroyed. Only the chimneys were left standing, and by some miracle the Floo was still working. I found my Mum wandering through the grounds. She didn't recognise me anymore. Our house elves had been killed when the house was destroyed, and no one had cared for her for I don't know how many days. She was hurt and dehydrated and ...' Again she wasn't able to go on. Her body was wracked with sobs. I scooted beside her and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it in soothing circles. Greengrass gulped and then took a deep breath.

'She was afraid of me! My own mother cowered in fear when I came near. I asked her where Dad was, and she didn't remember him. I searched the ruins of our house and finally found what was left of him under a heap of rubble,' she wailed. She turned around and buried her face at my shoulder. I kept rubbing her back and rocked her gently. Eventually, she calmed down. Her face was blotched and she looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.

'I took Mum to St. Mungo's, where she was kept in the Janus-Thickney-Ward. Then I returned to our home and buried Dad on the family plot. Our family's affairs were in disarray. Voldemort's reign had been disastrous for business. We'd lost almost all of our clients in the magical world, and the business with the Muggles had declined considerably, because Dad had been watched by the Death Eaters and had to act carefully not to be found out. On top of it all he'd had to pay protection money to the Death Eaters to leave our family alone, so our vaults had been emptied. I had difficulties to pay Mum's hospital bills. Over the summer, business in the magical world eventually picked up. However, many of our former clients were reluctant to deal with us again, because they thought our family has been in league with Voldemort.' Her voice sounded bitter. 'I concentrated on the business connections we had in the Muggle world, and I daresay I've been successful, though Greengrass Shipping is not yet back to its former level. But we made enough money that I was able to take Mum to the USA when the healers at St. Mungos told me about a new treatment developed at Salem General Hospital for Magical Diseases. Well, you know the rest.'

She picked up the bottle and refilled her glass. Then she downed the shot and burped like a patron of the Hogs Head.

Imagine Daphne Geengrass, the epitome of Pureblood composure and grace, burping. I must have looked at her with a real idiotic and unbelieving expression, because at first she started to giggle, which soon turned into full laughter. I couldn't help myself, her laughter was contagious and soon we both roared with laughter, literally rolling.

It took us a while to calm down. Tears were streaming down my face, and hers as well, but I soon realised that she was again crying. When I realised her pain, I again put an arm around her shoulder. It had worked before to calm her down in her grief, but I wasn't sure if she would still tolerate me touching her. Amazingly, she did. She turned toward me and buried her face in my chest. I put my other arm around her and rocked her gently.

The whisky and the emotional turmoil she'd been through finally demanded their price. It didn't take long and she was fast asleep in my arms. I didn't want to, but I'd also had a bad night. That's how I fell asleep with Greengrass in my arms during the first night of my world cruise

HP - DG

I woke up from something tickling my nose. I was wedged between the back of the sofa and something warm and soft snuggling against me. It felt nice. I hadn't slept that well since ... well, I really didn't remember since when. Undisturbed, peaceful sleep had been a stranger to me ever since Voldemort regained his powers, and after his downfall my nights still were haunted by nightmares.

Then the memory hit me and I groaned. I had fallen asleep with Greengrass in my arms after I comforted her grieving for her mother. I prayed to every deity that was that she remembered, too, and refrained from hexing me when she woke up.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the girl in my arms. She looked peaceful in her sleep; a small smile played around her lips. As hard as I tried, I couldn't reconcile the girl that was heartbroken over the death of her mother and had cried herself to sleep in my arms with the girl I'd seen across the Great Hall each day during my Hogwarts days. She'd seemed poised and aloof back then, which had earned her the nickname "Ice Queen of Slytherin" from my house mates. I knew that after last night I'd never again be able to see her that way, since I now knew the warm-hearted girl behind the facade.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. At first, she didn't seem to know where she was and how she'd got there, but then I could tell by the expression on her face that her memory set in. Her blue eyes became dark and haunted. She swung her legs over the edge of the sofa and sat up.

'Thanks, Potter. For everything,' she said quietly, then rose and vanished into the bathroom. A few minutes later I heard the water of the shower running.

I passed the time the shower was occupied reading the day's entertainment program the butler had me provided with yesterday afternoon. It offered a wide range of entertainment, beginning from lectures about the destinations we'd visit during the cruise, lessons in painting, dance lessons, fashion shows and fitness training. The latter caught my interest. At Mr Freid's advice I'd started with jogging and fitness training when I began my therapy, which I'd both found to be rather beneficial. My appetite returned, and I also liked the effects the training had on my scrawny body. A look at the weather forecast told me that it was going to be a sunny, albeit freezing cold day, so I decided to go for a run on the track the ship provided on the upmost deck later in the day. I was still reading the program, when Greengrass came out of the bathroom. She was dressed in one of the heavy terrycloth bathrobes the shipping company provided and had a towel draped around her head. She left the door to the bathroom open behind her, and I took that as my cue to get ready for the day.

When I came back into the living room, showered, shaved and dressed in black chinos and an emerald green dress shirt, Greengrass was already waiting for me. She was dressed in black, Marlene-Dietrich-style trousers and a tight black blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a simple pony tail and she wore no make-up. Around her waist she wore a broad suede belt with a silver clasp in the form of a snake. I'd never noticed at school how narrow her waist was under the bulky school robes. The dark clothes made her look pale and vulnerable, an impression that was enhanced by the sadness in her eyes.

'Are you up to join me for breakfast?' I asked, and she nodded. Together, we took the elevator from deck ten where my suite was, down to deck four where the restaurants were suited. As a passenger of one of the two biggest suites on the ship I'd been entitled to choose my table at the main restaurant ahead, and I'd requested a small and quiet table at one of the huge windows. We sat down at a table for two and made our orders. I was hungry and ordered a full British breakfast, while Greengrass only wanted porridge.

We hardly spoke through the meal. Greengrass' eyes never lost that sad and haunted look, while she stirred her porridge without actually eating any. Her face, however, was once again the emotionless mask I knew from school. You really had to look closely into her eyes to realise she was heartbroken. We were lingering over a last cup of tea when the cruise director approached our table.

'Good morning, Ms Greengrass, Mr Potter,' he greeted. He turned to Greengrass. 'I've come to tell you that your mother has been put in a cabin of the hospital. I can take you to her if you want to say your good byes to her'.

I hadn't thought Greengrass could get any paler this morning, but she did. Her shoulders slumped. Gone was the composed Pureblood princess and the grieving daughter was back. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'I'll come with you.' She looked up and gave me a pleading look. With an inward sigh I yielded to accompanying her on that hard task.

We left the restaurant and followed the cruise director down the length of the ship until we reached a hallway off the atrium. Greengrass walked beside me. When we entered the hallway, she took my hand. Her hand was clammy and cold. She didn't look at me, and I doubted she realised what she'd done. She'd simply craved for human contact in this difficult situation and I just happened to be there to provide it.

The cruise director led us through an inconspicuous looking door into a waiting area that was fairly packed with passengers waiting for the doctor to see them. The pale faces of most of them suggested that they were suffering from seasickness. Not for the first time I was thankful that Madam Pomfrey had insisted to supply me with enough potion against seasickness to last me for two world cruises when she heard about my "silly idea" (as she'd called it) for the first time. I'd taken one at the beginning of the cruise and so far felt fine. Greengrass also showed no sign of seasickness yet, which suggested that she was either immune or had taken magical means against it.

We passed the waiting area and went into another hallway which led to a small number of cabins. A look through an open door told me they were like hospital rooms, furnished with a hospital bed each and a lot of impressing looking medical equipment. The cruise director opened the last door of the corridor and let us pass. Greengrass went first.

'I'll be waiting outside,' he told me when I went into the room, and closed the door behind us.

I didn't know what to expect. The last time I'd said my last good bye to someone it had been at Hogwarts the day after the battle. They had put the fallen in a huge tent that had been erected on the front lawn. When I came to say good bye to Remus, Tonks, Fred and Colin, the coffins were already closed.

This was different. Mrs Greengrass lay on a hospital bed as if she was sleeping. Her arms were above the blanket that covered her body, and she held a pale, pink rose between her folded hands. A vase with pink roses stood on a small table beside the bed and a white candle in a simple crystal candlestick burned beside them. Her white face looked calm and peaceful. However, the resemblance to the young woman beside me gave me the creeps. They could have been twin sisters, except for the silver streaks that were visible at Mrs Greengrass' temples.

Greengrass slumped down in the chair that stood beside the bed and looked at her mother. I couldn't see her face, but her shoulders shook, so I stepped behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, hoping she'd find comfort in the contact. Her hand came up and she clasped mine.

I don't know how long she remained like that, silently saying good bye. Finally, Greengrass let go off my hand and rose. She leaned over the bed and kissed her mother on the forehead. Then she turned around to me. Her face was wet with tears.

'She's so cold,' was all she said.

I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and handed it to Greengrass. She took it and dabbed her eyes. Her free hand grabbed for mine, and after a last look at the still form of her mother she led me out of the room.

As promised, the cruise director waited outside in the corridor. 'Is there anything else we can do for you, Miss Greengrass?' he asked.

'Thank you, you've already done so much to help me. Please, also convey my heartfelt thanks to the captain,' she replied.

The cruise director gave a short nod. 'I'll do that. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to let me know.' He interrupted himself, but then went on, 'I suppose you're not in the mood to attend tonight's gala dinner?' and Greengrass nodded in confirmation.

I remembered vaguely the announcement of a gala dinner to celebrate the beginning of the cruise in the program for today. With the program I'd also got an invitation to the captain's table. My travel agent had warned me that the passengers of the most expensive suites (as mine and Greengrass') were regular guests at the captain's table for special events. It was a gesture to honour valued guests I could have done without, but apparently there were people who lived for stuff like that.

'All right, then I'll take you from the guest list for tonight. Perhaps you'll join us another time?'

Greengrass simply nodded to that.

The cruise director turned to me. 'What about you, Mr Potter?'

'You don't have to stay with me in the suite if you'd rather go out, Potter,' Greengrass interjected, but I shook my head. I didn't have it in me to abandon her to a lonesome night of grieving after all she'd been through. 'I'll stay with you, if you want.' The thankful smile I got in return was reward enough. 'All right, take me from the list, then,' I told the cruise director.

The cruise director led us back to the atrium and then took his leave. Greengrass and I looked at each other, not knowing what to do next. Her face was blotchy from crying, I noticed, and still as white as a sheet. I grabbed her elbow and gently guided her to the elevators.

'What about getting our winter cloaks and then take a stroll outside?' I asked. Greengrass merely nodded. She was much too apathetic for my taste, but grieve can do that to people. We made a quick detour to the suite, which had already been put back to order by the house service, grabbed our cloaks and took the elevator down to the promenade deck.

A sharp, biting wind greeted us as we stepped outside, while the winter sun smiling down from the clear, blue sky was reflected myriads of times in tiny sparkles by the ocean. In spite of the sunshine, the promenade deck was fairly empty. Most of the passengers were prevented from venturing outside by the sharp wind. Greengrass and I both shoved our hands in the pockets of our cloaks, braced ourselves against the cold and started to circle around the ship. The vast ocean stretched ahead of us and no other vessel could be seen. Wherever we looked, there was only water and waves. It made me feel insignificant and small. Greengrass seemed to feel that way, to, because she withdrew even more into herself, much like a turtle withdrew into its carapace. Her small hand, however, found her way into the pocket of my cloak and grasped my hand. She was as cold as ice. I pressed her hand reassuringly, and she seemed to relax a little.

'Mum was a witch from Salem, Connecticut,' she suddenly started talking. 'Dad fell in love with her during a business trip to the USA and managed to convince my grandfather not to enter him into a marriage contract with a Pureblood witch from Britain, but allow him to marry Mum instead. Grandfather gave in. Personally, I'm convinced it was because Mum was an heiress and the last of her line. The money she brought into the Greengrass family undoubtedly was more than the dowry the Prewetts could afford.'

'Prewett?' The name sounded familiar. Then I remembered. Mrs Weasley had been a Prewett before she married. 'You mean, as in Molly Prewett?'

Greengrass smiled, though the smile didn't reach her eyes, and nodded. 'Yes, your best mate's mother was supposed to become my mother.'

I gave her an appraising look.

'What?' she asked.

'I try to imagine you with red hair, but I can't. Red is not really your colour.'

She let out a small laugh and shook her head at that. Then she went on with her story. 'The Wizarding society over in the USA is not as backwards as we are in Britain. In the UK the Ministry for Magic's stance on keeping the Statute of Secrecy is to hide ourselves from the Muggles and not mingle with them unless it is absolutely necessary. The stance of the Ministry for Magic of the USA is rather to hide the magic. In my opinion that makes much more sense. Wizards and witches in the USA grow up among Muggles and know how to blend in. They even send their children to Muggle schools. Apparently, they've developed a potion that can prevent outbursts of accidental magic, so that the parents can send their children to Muggle schools without having to be afraid of breaching the Statute of Secrecy. That's why my mother grew up among Muggles and knew how to move among them without raising suspicion. My father, on the other hand, came from a very traditional British Pureblood family.'

'I guess that was kind of a culture clash?' I interjected.

'Oh Merlin, yes!' she confirmed. 'Dad adhered to the policy of the British Ministry for Magic. Our house is well hidden from the Muggles, and Dad never ventured into the Muggle world if he could help it. Of course, we didn't have any Muggle appliances at home. Mum complied with that way of live, though she thought it rather strange and backwards. On the other hand, Dad raised no objections when she told me about the way she grew up. I had to pretend to be the perfect young Pureblood lady whenever we had guests at home and of course at school, but Mum would frequently take me to outings to New York, Paris, Rome and Munich, show me the sights and go shopping with me. We'd also go to Muggle restaurants and theatres. That's how I know how to blend in with Muggles. I know how to book a trip with a travel agency, how to use the Muggle transportations and how to behave in Muggle restaurants and hotels. I know about the different European Muggle currencies and I even have my own Muggle bank account and credit card. I even know how to operate a computer. Also, I know how to dress like a Muggle. Mum loved fashion. She never liked the robes British wizards and witches still wear. I grew up with a mother who dressed in jeans and shirts when we were at home and had no Pureblood guests, and in smart Muggle attire when we were travelling. She also subscribed to a couple of Muggle fashion magazines and made me read them, too, so that I'd always know about the latest Muggle fashions. That was a part of my education I never once complained about,' she added dryly.

'I imagine,' I chuckled.

We had reached the bow of the ship and leaned against the rail side by side. The sharp wind made our eyes water.

'I miss her,' Greengrass whispered. 'I miss her so much. She was my mother and she was also my best friend. You don't have friends when you're a Slytherin. I had seven horrible and lonesome years back at Hogwarts, never knowing whom I could trust. And now she's gone and I'm all by myself.' She palmed her face in her hands and sobbed.

I put my arm around her shoulders. Until today I don't know what made me say, 'You're not without a friend, Greengrass. You've got me.' Maybe it was because she was as alone in the world as I was, maybe it was because she was the only familiar face on a ship full of strangers. It doesn't matter; I've never once regretted it.

She turned in my arms and buried her face in my chest. Rubbing small circles on her back with my hands, I waited until she had calmed down.

'Thank you, Potter,' she said as she finally looked up at me, her face wet with tears. 'You are really a good friend.'

I smiled down into her red rimmed eyes. 'Friends don't call each other by their last names. Do you think you have it in you to call me Harry?'

'Only when you call me Daphne – Harry,' she smiled back, though rather watery.

I looked up to the sky as if I had to give that some contemplation. Then I grinned. 'I think I can manage – Daphne.'

'Prat!' she replied and slapped my arm.

'Your most obedient servant, my lady,' I replied and offered her the crook of my arm.

Shaking her head at my antics, she took my arm and we continued our walk. However, the cold wind soon forced us back inside. I secretly resolved to postpone my daily runs outside until we'd reached a milder climate.

We both weren't very hungry, so we decided to grab a sandwich at the buffet restaurant. It was delicious, but to my dismay Daphne only managed to eat a few bites.

After lunch, we returned to the suite. A strange, buzzing sound greeted us as we entered the living room. It came from an ornate iron strongbox I'd put on the desk in the living room. Daphne gave me a questioning look.

'That's my Gringotts Banishing Box, telling me I've got mail,' I answered her silent question.

'You've got a Gringotts Banishing Box?' she gasped. 'That service is only available for their most valued customers!'

'And for a hefty fee,' I added while I opened the box with a tap of my wand and took a bundle of letters out of it.

'How does it operate?' Daphne asked.

'I've got an owl post box with the post office at Diagon Alley and a Muggle post box with the Muggle post office in Islington. They've both a Banishing Charm on them. Every bit of mail I get is sent to Gringotts. The Goblins then scan my mail for curses, dark items, love potions, Compulsion Charms and what else. They also separate the fan mail and the business proposals. The fan mail is sent to my personal assistants, who answer it, and the business proposals are sent to my Board of Financial Advisors, who'll look at them and tell me which one are worth my attention. These they sent to me, together with their daily reports and my personal mail from my friends. Everything dark or with charms or curses on it is sent to the Auror department.'

She nodded thoughtfully. 'That makes sense. Considering some of my former house mates and their families, I guess you get quite a lot of nasty mail.'

'Tons!' I replied, looking through the letters in my hands. There was one from the Goblins and another one from my Muggle advisors. But there also was a letter from Ginny. I grimaced at the latter and shoved it into the back pocket of my trousers for the time being. Then I opened the letters from Gringotts and my Muggle accountants. They'd be most unhappy with me if I didn't answer their letters immediately.

It had been a big surprise when I found out that my father had been disowned by my grandfather in favour of me. Also, my family history was not at all what I'd been made to believe. My parents had been Gryffindors and fought for the light, so much was true, but during the course of the centuries the Potters had been a neutral family. There had been no house preference for Potters; there were alumni of all four houses among my ancestors, albeit Slytherin and Hufflepuff were slightly ahead. My grandfather Fleamont, a Slytherin alumnus, had loved his only son dearly, but he also mistrusted Albus Dumbledore, and was most unhappy that my dad followed Dumbledore without questions. Afraid that my father would squander the family fortune in the fight against Voldemort, he'd set up a generous trust for my parents, but made me his sole heir. In hindsight, I have to say grandfather Fleamont's fears were well grounded. Dumbledore had manipulated everyone in the order, and I won't even start with the way he'd manipulated me all my life long. Also, my father had given away the bigger part of his enormous yearly income for the war effort. What I found in the vault my parents left me when I came to Diagon Alley on my eleventh birthday were the remnants of the yearly payment my parents had received for 1981.

I found out about that on my eighteenth birthday. Grandfather Fleamont had stated in his will that I should come into my inheritance when I finished my NEWTs or turned eighteen, whichever came first. While I had full access to the interest from my eighteenth birthday on, he'd placed a Board of Financial Advisors in front of me who were supposed to educate me how to manage the vast Potter holdings. I'd had a crash course in financial management since then, and they only agreed to my sabbatical on the premise that I'd contact them on a daily basis. That's why I'd acquired a Gringotts Banishing Box.

Deciding I'd be a good boy, I sat down and answered the letters of my financial advisors immediately. It had turned out that I seemed to be a natural at financial management. While the Goblins as well as the Muggle managers frequently regaled me with stories about my dad's irresponsibility when it came to money, they praised me for my instinct and compared me to my grandfather Fleamont, who'd been a legend in the business world in his days. Oh well!

Then I started a letter to Kingsley, describing what had happened last night and asking him to keep it out of the papers, if possible. I was still scribbling my letter to Kingsley when Daphne's hesitant voice interrupted me. 'Harry, may I impose on you once more?'

I looked up and smiled at her. 'You didn't impose yourself on me. I offered you to stay here, remember?'

She nodded and bit her lips. 'May I use your Banishing Box to send some letters? I need to Ambassador Temple, the British Ambassador to the Ministry of Magic of the USA, to ask him to make arrangements for Mum's funeral on her family's plot in Salem.'

'Of course you're welcomed to use it. It's attuned to my magic, which means that I have to write the address of the recipient on the envelope. Also, your correspondents have to put their letters to you in an extra envelope with my name on it, or the letters won't be sent to the Banishing Box.'

'Thank you, Harry. I'll bear that in mind.' She stood up and went to the walk-in closet, from where she returned moments later with a quill and parchment in her hands. She settled down at the small table of the dining corner in the living room and began writing her letter.

I also resumed my work. When I looked up about half an hour later, Daphne was just finishing her letter. She handed her mail to me, and I scribbled the names of the recipients on the envelope and then send it away with a tap of my wand on the Banishing Box.

Daphne had settled down on the sofa again. I sat down in the corner opposite of her and leaned back. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. A new resolve seemed to have come over her.

'You look at peace,' I observed.

She put a strand of her hair behind her ear with her fingers. 'I've finally made all the necessary decisions about Mum's funeral. That was the hardest part for me. I guess it will get hard yet another time when the funeral takes place –.' She choked and interrupted herself. I could see tears well up in her eyes. 'But it will get better from now on. I guess I've cried myself out, and I try to find comfort in the thought that Mum is now in a better place where she doesn't have to suffer anymore and will meet Dad again.'

I reached over and clasped her hand in silent comfort. She linked her fingers with mine. We sat side by side in silence, both lost in our thoughts, and watched dusk falling.

We were startled out of our contemplation by a knock on the door. I went to answer the call. It turned out to be the butler, who insisted on serving us a bottle of champagne and pralines as a kick-off for the evening's festivities. I remembered vaguely that champagne and pralines in the evening were one of the many extras that came with the suite.

'I'm not really up for celebrating,' Daphne said after the butler had left, and eyed the champagne in the cooler.

'I've been told that champagne is a drink that fits in all circumstances. And chocolate is great comfort food,' I replied and handed her the platter with pralines.

'If you put it that way,' she conceded and took a praline. She also made no objections when I handed her a glass of champagne. 'You are right, it's both great comfort food,' she admitted after the first glass.

With not a small degree of satisfaction I noticed how some colour returned back into her cheeks that had been pasty white all day long. We'd already decided not to go out for dinner, do we ordered our meal to the suite. Some of her appetite had returned, but she still left most of her meal on the plate, I noticed with dismay.

After the butler had cleared away the plates, we again settled down in the living room and talked.

'We have a pond at home,' Daphne began. 'Mum taught me how to swim when I was small. Dad was scandalised. Swimming and wearing skimpy swimsuits is not considered proper for Pureblood ladies in Britain. Mum simply laughed at him, and he made no objections anymore. He loved her and me so much, he always let us have our ways when something fun clashed with Pureblood traditions.'

'You seemed to have had a rather unusual upbringing for a Pureblood,' I observed.

Daphne nodded at that. 'Even though I was taught all the Pureblood traditions I needed to know and have been educated to become Dad's successor in our business as well as on the Wizengamot, I had a hard time behaving like it was expected of me. I stood out like a sore thumb in my house because of that. There was always something slightly _off_ with me, if you know what I mean.'

That was something I could rely to. I'd never really fitted in, too, no matter how hard I tried. I had needed six months of therapy sessions until I finally accepted that I wouldn't be the man I was today without everything that had happened to me in the past. I'd made my peace, with the bad memories as well as with my unloved fame and the wealth I'd inherited, and vowed to make the best of what had been handed to me for the remainder of my life.

'I know what you mean,' was all I replied. Again, we relapsed into silence, until Daphne started yawning and we decided to call it a day. I retired to my bedroom, while she called the house service to put up her bed for the night.

I put my clothes back into the walk-in wardrobe while I waited for my turn in the bathroom, and never remembered Ginny's letter I'd left in the back pocket of my trousers.

HP – DG

The next morning, I received a letter from Kingsley. As always, it was straight to the point.

 _Harry,_

 _Thank you for informing me about Isabella Greengrass' death. I won't deny that this can become a rather ugly affair as soon as the press gets wind of it, considering the circumstances of her death. I'll do my best to keep it under wraps as long as possible, but you know the state the Ministry is in. It will be impossible to keep this silent indefinitely._

 _Please, convey my condolences to Miss Greengrass. Unfortunately, there has to be an official investigation as soon as you reach New York, due to the fact that the Killing Curse has been cast with her wand. I'll send two of my most experienced Aurors to conduct the interview as soon as you've entered port._

 _Kingsley_

I grimaced and handed the letter to Daphne. While she read it, her face once again assumed the stony expression I'd by now learned hid high emotional stress.

'That was to be expected,' she said as she handed the letter back to me. I had to admire her composure. Had I been in her shoes, I'd have kicked the furniture or at least have ranted for a while. However, her eyes betrayed a trace of fear.

'It's a formal matter,' I tried to assure her. 'No one can blame you that your mother snatched your wand and cast the Killing Curse.'

'Of course not,' was all she replied, but I could see the doubt in her eyes.

HP - DG

We settled into kind of a routine during the remaining days until we reached New York. We'd have breakfast at the main restaurant, then take a walk around the ship. It was still sunny, but butt freezing cold with a sharp wind blowing, so we were never able to be outside for long. After that, we'd return to the suite to deal with our correspondence. It turned out that especially Daphne had a lot on her plate after her mother's death had been made public to the Goblins.

'Mum's family was by far wealthier than Dad's,' she explained on our fourth day at sea when she received yet another thick letter from the Goblins of Gringotts, Salem. 'The fortune is tied in a trust, and Mum was paid the interest into her vault at Gringotts of Salem. She was the only one who could access that vault, and things were really difficult when she wasn't able to handle her affairs anymore and we practically had no income from the Greengrass holdings. That was one of the reasons I had to take her to the USA. The Goblins of Salem insisted on seeing her before they'd allow me to handle Mum's affairs for her.' She gulped. 'I've spent so many sleepless nights last summer, not knowing how I'd be able to pay the bills for Mum's treatment. I really prayed that I'd be able to access the income from Mum's trust soon so that our financial troubles would be over. It never occurred to me that my prayers would come true like this.'

She palmed her face in her hands and cried. That would happen to her seemingly out of the blue at least once or twice during the day. She'd found some degree of comfort in the thought that her mother hadn't to suffer anymore, but then something would happen that reminded her of her loss and she'd break down. I'd become quite adept at comforting her.

'Thank you, Harry,' she smiled at me with red rimmed eyes as she extricated herself from the hug I'd given her. 'You are a great friend.'

'You're welcome,' I replied and returned to my own letters.

After we'd dealt with our duties, we'd have lunch at the buffet restaurant and then go for a work out at the gym. Daphne still wasn't up to join the festive crowd at dinnertime, so we had dinner at the suite and spent the evenings in the living room, talking, reading or watching DVDs. We learned quite a lot about each other during these days. I was amazed how easy it was to get along with the girl I'd known as the Ice Queen of Slytherin. Instead of being a pampered Pureblood princess, she'd turned out to be the down-to-earth girl from next door. She was very much like Ginny in that regard, minus the temper. However, she was interested in far more topics than Ginny. Ginny and I had snogged or talked about Quidditch. Daphne was already the hard working Head of House of the Greengrass family, had to manage the family's holdings and taken care of her mentally disabled mother, not to mention that she had to take her father's seat on the Wizengamot as soon as she turned twenty-one. That was something we had in common. We bonded over hours of talk about our duties. She was impressed about my instinctive grasp of business matters, while I was impressed by her profound knowledge of the Wizarding society and how not to observe sacred customs could seriously endanger any success in the business world, not to mention on the Wizengamot.

'We'd make a good team,' she quipped on our last night before we reached New York. 'Just imagine, your fame and the connections you'd be able to make, and my Slytherin cunning and knowledge about the way the Wizengamot works. We'd be able to get through every proposal we want to make. These stuffed shirts on the Wizengamot wouldn't know what had hit them!'

'No kidding,' I agreed, swirling the whisky in my tumbler. I gave her a sharp look. 'Are you proposing an alliance between the House of Greengrass and the House of Potter, Daphne?'

She gasped at that. However, the gleam in her eyes told me that she'd at least considered that possibility. _She_ _wouldn't_ _be_ _worth_ _her_ _salt_ _as_ _a_ _Slytherin_ _otherwise_ , I smiled inwardly. Of course the close proximity we'd been thrown into the last week and our quickly developing friendship had given her a head start in any negotiations with me over the other families who held seats at the Wizengamot, and vice versa.

'Because I've been thinking of a proposal that'll be of mutual benefit for both of us, I'm sure,' I went on.

That got her interest. She sat upright and put down her tumbler onto the coffee table. 'Go ahead!'

I had been thinking of asking her to tutor me in the many things I still had to learn about the Wizarding World as soon as I returned from my cruise. But during our long talks I'd realised that we were literally in the same boat. She had no family to return to. Even her home had been destroyed, and she had no friends where she could stay.

'You know how much I still have to learn about the Wizarding World,' I began, and Daphne hung on every word I said. 'There are so many unwritten rules to observe that I'll probably find myself in deep shit as soon as I start to attend to the many official functions or if I'm invited to a private dinner, or, Merlin forbid, a ball! Heck, I still don't know how to dance!'

Daphne chuckled at that, but she didn't contradict me. Of course, she'd seen me and my abysmal performance on the dance floor at the Yule Ball.

'So, what do you think about staying with me and teaching me about everything I still have to learn while we are abroad? While we are away, we can discuss what kind of alliance we want our houses to have. I leave it up to you if you want to be open about that or if you will keep it a secret to maintain the neutrality of the House of Greengrass. You can also help me to work out the future stance of the House of Potter. As of yet, I'm undecided which fraction to choose. Everyone will expect me to be on the side of the Light, but believe me, they are as fanatic as Death Eaters in some regards and I don't like that.' I knew I was beginning to ramble, so I stopped myself with some difficulties and looked at her expectantly.

Daphne looked at me as if Christmas had come early. For the first time since I'd met her on board, her eyes shone as bright as sapphires and she gave me a broad smile, full of joy.

'Thank you, Harry, I'd like that!' she simply replied.

'Good!' I beamed, and then pumped my fist into the air.

'You're still such a boy,' she shook her head at me. 'Dignified members of the Wizengamot don't do a jig if they succeed with something. They at most allow themselves a small smile of triumph, like this.' She quirked the corners of her mouth and then resumed her best Ice Queen poker face.

I snorted and she grinned in return. We celebrated our deal with another whisky and went to bed rather late.

HP - DG

It was again in the middle of the night when I woke up with a pounding heart. There was a muted whimper, coming from the living room. I rose and padded on my bare feet into the adjoining room.

Daphne was tossing and turning in her sleep, whimpering softly. Her face was wet with tears.

I went to her bed and grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her gently. 'Wake up, Daphne, you have a nightmare!'

She startled in her sleep, then sat up bolt upright with wide open eyes. For a second, her eyes darted around the room until they rested on me. With a small cry she flung herself at me and sobbed.

I sat down on the sofa, put my arms around her and rocked her gently. After a rather long time she quietened down and began to talk, her head still buried in the crook of my neck.

'I was back home. The Death Eaters came for my parents, to punish them for Dad's defiance against Voldemort. Dad fought them, but then he fell to a Killing Curse cast in his back. Mum tried to escape, but there were too many of them. They cast the Torture Curse at her again and again, until she had lost her mind and then –.' She gasped for air. 'And then they _laughed_ at her,' she wailed. Again, I felt her tears trickling on my neck. 'And I did nothing to help them, I only stood and stared!'

'Daphne, you couldn't have helped them. You were not there, you were at Hogwarts, remember?' I soothed her while I rubbed her back. She clung only tighter to me, her shoulders still shaking.

I leaned back on the sofa, resigned to losing a lot of sleep that night. I should have expected something like that to happen.

We were nearing New York and today Daphne got a message from the DMLE that two Aurors were going to talk to her as soon as the "Princess Isabella" had entered port. Another letter from Ambassador Temple had told her that her mother's funeral would take place in the morning of the day after. It really wasn't surprising that she'd have a nightmare tonight.

I don't know how long I held her in my arms, rubbing her back and murmuring soothingly in her ear. After what seemed an eternity, her breathing got even. However, I didn't dare to move yet, lest to wake her again. I still contemplated when it would be safe to lower her back to her bed, when I also fell asleep.

Again, I woke up wedged between the back of the sofa and Daphne snuggled up to me. I looked at the clock that hung at the wall of the living room. It was almost eight a.m. The "Princess Isabella" was scheduled to enter port around noon. No matter how sad and troubled Daphne was today, I wasn't going to miss watching the "Princess Isabella" nearing the skyline of New York. I gently shook Daphne by the shoulders to wake her up.

She opened her eyes and looked groggily at me. Then she turned beet red. 'I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you yet again.'

'Don't worry about it,' I replied. 'But I'll get first use of the bathroom for that today!'

'Agreed,' Daphne smiled, and I went into the bathroom.

I showered and dressed in new record time. While Daphne was in the bathroom, I quickly went down to the cruise agency and booked her trip in my suite for the remainder of the world cruise. It felt a little awkward. I couldn't help but wonder what the cruise agent would think about the nature of our arrangement. But she went on very professionally about it and never did so much as raise an eyebrow.

I arrived back at the suite just in time with breakfast.

'I thought we'd better have breakfast at the suite. You'll have a better view from here when the skyline of New York comes closer than from the restaurant,' Daphne said.

I felt touched by her thoughtfulness. Over the last couple of days she'd often surprised me with little things she'd done for me, like ordering a movie I mentioned I'd like to see from the rental service, or noticing how I liked my tea and preparing it for me that way every time we sat down for breakfast.

'Thank you,' I said while we sat down.

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast while the skyline of New York made a first appearance on the horizon. After breakfast, we bundled up in our winter cloaks and scarfs and went out onto the veranda of the suite. The view from here was breath-taking. The suite was right above the bridge, and we really had first row seats as the "Princess Isabella" passed the Statue of Liberty and then Ellis Island.

Daphne turned her head and smiled at me. Her eyes were bright, and the cold wind had turned her cheeks pink. 'Isn't that fantastic?' she enthused. 'I've often been to New York with Mum, but we always travelled by international Portkey. I've never arrived here like this. It's beyond words.'

I had to agree with that.

Slowly, the ship made its way up the Hudson River. The "Princess Isabella" was by no means a small ship, but it was dwarfed by the tall buildings of New York. I'd heard about the skyscrapers of New York and of course I'd seen pictures, but nothing had prepared me for the real thing. It was a once in a lifetime experience, that was sure.

It was almost noon when the ship was manoeuvred to anchor at New York Cruise Terminal. Daphne had become rather quiet by then. We watched how the gangway was put up, and then, after what seemed like an eternity, the first passengers left the ship and entered the busses that were waiting for them at the pier to begin their sightseeing tours. We had no idea when the Aurors would arrive, so I persuaded Daphne to go back inside and wait there. I'd just put back our cloaks and scarfs to the walk-in closet when there was a knock on the door.

When I returned into the living room, we had two visitors. One of them I recognised as Dawlish, the Auror who'd come with Kingsley to Hogwarts in my fifth year to sack Dumbledore. The other Auror was unfamiliar, but he eventually introduced himself as Auror Proudfoot. Tonks had told me at the beginning of my sixth year that he was also on guard at Hogwarts.

Both wore what most wizards consider as proper Muggle attire. In Dawlish' case that were a dark knitted sweater, pink jogging pants and felt slippers, very much like those Arabella Figg loved to wear. Proudfoot had done slightly better, in jeans and a leather jacket. However, you'd might think the t-shirt he wore under the leather jacket a trifle eccentric. It depicted a sleeping blue Care Bear under a rainbow, snuggling to a little star and with its thumb in its mouth.

Daphne and I exchanged a look and hardly suppressed our laughter. By the way the two Aurors had dressed, it was obvious that they'd Apparated on board, thus circumventing the Muggle security. There was no way they'd been let on board by the crew, dressed like that. At least I hoped they'd Apparated and not Confounded their way to our cabin. I shuddered at the mere thought.

Daphne asked them to sit down and offered tea, which both of them declined.

Auror Dawlish pulled parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill with a garish green feather out of the pocket of his jogging pants.

I immediately objected to the quill. 'You're not going to take notes of this interview with a Quick Quotes Quill. These things do nothing than record a load of drangondung and screw the truth!'

Auror Dawlish looked offended. 'I've worked with these quills for the last ten years, Mr Potter, and no one ever objected.'

'Then you've dealt with idiots,' I replied bluntly.

Auror Proudfoot sniggered, which he quickly turned into a cough as Dawlish glared at him.

Unimpressed by my objections, Dawlish proceeded to put up the Quick Quotes Quill to record the interview. I let my wand slip out of the invisible holster on my right arm for about an inch, unobtrusively aimed at the offending quill and silently cast 'Incendio!'

The quill promptly burst out in flames. Dawlish squealed like a girl, Daphne startled and Proudfoot didn't bat an eyelid, though he'd let his wand slip in his hand. His shoulders shook with silent laughter and he winked at me.

'Mr Potter, you're hindering an official Auror investigation!' Dawlish finally managed to shout, every inch the indignant Ministry official.

'No, I'm not,' I replied as I stood up from the sofa and walked to the desk. 'I'm only preventing you from recording rubbish!' I grabbed a biro from the desk and threw it to Dawlish. 'Use this the good old Muggle way to take your notes!' I sat back on the sofa and crossed my arms in front of my chest, while Dawlish turned the biro in his hand, obviously not knowing how to use it. I reached over with my hand, took the biro from him and pushed the button. Then I gave the biro back to him.

Perplexed, Dawlish took the biro from me and scribbled hesitantly on the parchment. 'Weird!' he mumbled as he saw the lines appear.

Proudfoot had tears in his eyes, but still didn't say a word, while Daphne was pink in the face and avoided looking at me.

Dawlish straightened and turned to Daphne. 'Ms Greengrass, why decided you to travel with your ailing mother on a dangerous Muggle contraption?'

Daphne stiffened. During the six days I'd spent with her in close proximity in my suite, I'd never once seen the haughty Pureblood. At the implied criticism of Dawlish' question, however, it was suddenly there in full force. Her face became an unmoved mask and she looked down at him along her nose. I don't know how she managed that, since he was at least five inches taller than her five feet five, but she definitely looked down at him.

'Auror Dawlish, I don't doubt that an experienced Auror as you are made the necessary inquiries back in England about my family.' Her voice clearly implicated that she doubted just that. 'So, you'll probably have found out from the Healers at St. Mungo's that my mother's condition forbade any means of magical travelling. Travelling by plane was also deemed too dangerous because she was prone to bouts of accidental magic. That left only travelling by ship.'

That left Dawlish speechless, but he recovered quickly. 'What happened on the night of January the second to January the third?' he asked, glaring at Daphne.

'Due to her condition, my mother had lost any sense of the time of the day,' Daphne started. She was calm and collected and ignored Dawlish's glare. 'She was confused about her new surroundings and couldn't understand that she was on board of a ship and on her way to Salem for an alternative treatment the Healer's at St. Mungo's recommended. Also ...' her voice trembled slightly, but she maintained her composure. 'She didn't recognise me as her daughter anymore. I had to lock our suite, lest she not run away and harm herself. It took hours until I could finally persuade her to get ready for bed. I think it was already past midnight by then, and I was exhausted. It had been hard work to get her through the security and on board without the Muggles getting suspicious. I was tired and for a moment I was inattentive and she managed to snatch my wand. She thought ... she thought ...' Tears welled up in Daphne's eyes and she interrupted herself.

'She thought what?' Dawlish snarled. He had a gleam in his eyes I didn't like at all.

Daphne pulled out a handkerchief and dried her eyes. 'She thought I was a Death Eater,' she said quietly. Her voice sounded thick.

'Ah!' Auror Dawlish exclaimed. 'But she wasn't that far off the mark, was she, Daphne?'

Daphne startled. Then she became furious. 'I never was a sympathiser of that monster and I definitely didn't take the Dark Mark!' she hissed.

Dawlish regarded her with a look from her head to her feet that gave me the creeps. It was leery and obnoxious, as if he was undressing her with his eyes. My fists curled on their own accord and Daphne's face turned rather pink.

'You're a Slytherin, honey,' Dawlish remarked as if that explained it all.

Daphne raised her chin. 'And your point is?'

'Everyone knows that Slytherins are a bunch of murderous Death Eaters, rotten to the core, all of them,' he sneered.

I'd heard enough. 'Auror Dawlish, it seems to me that your personal prejudices are getting in the way with your duties. Your conduct is not what I deem professional and I will make certain that Kingsley will hear of that. It's his priority objective to rid the Ministry from the corruption and unprofessionalism of the past, so I doubt he'll be impressed by your performance,' I drawled. Merlin, I sounded like Lucius Malfoy, but it certainly was worth it, because his face turned first red and then white. His wand slid out of his holster, and I knew he was going to hex me the next second. Too bad for him I was ready for him. I had my wand already in my hand and silently cast 'Stupefy!'

Dawlish slumped in his seat and Auror Proudfoot jumped up, also brandishing his wand. However, before he could raise it, I had my wand in his face.

'You'd better sit down, Auror Proudfoot, and continue this hearing in a _professional_ manner, unlike your partner.'

He stashed his wand away and regarded me with a long look. Then he sat down and pulled the parchment and the biro towards him. His eyes never left my face. However, it was not before he took the biro in his hand that I lowered my wand, though I still kept it in my hand.

Proudfoot began to chuckle. 'Potter, I really hope you'll consider joining the Aurors. We need men like you, fast with a wand and not afraid to stand up for what they think is right. Dawlish was a good men in his days, but he was put under the Imperius Curse by the head of the DMLE during the war and that gave him a massive hate of those affiliated with the Dark Wanker, or even those he supposes were affiliated with him. Having been exposed to the Imperius Curse over a long period of time also damaged his ability of rational thought.' He turned to Daphne. 'Ms Greengrass, I apologise on behalf of my partner and the Auror department.'

Daphne accepted the apology with a nod of her head.

'What happened after your mother snatched your wand from you, Ms Greengrass?' Proudfoot continued the questioning.

'She pointed the wand at me. I knew she was going to curse me the next second. She had bouts of accidental magic, and the Healers at St. Mungo's had told me that she had to be prevented from using any magic, because her magic was so disrupted that it could have disastrous results. So, I tried to talk with her. I begged her not to hex me. She didn't listen.' Daphne's composed façade crumpled at the memory. 'She ... she cast the Killing Curse at me!' she cried and broke out in tears.

Auror Proudfoot waited patiently until she'd calmed down and dried her eyes.

'It turned out to be as disastrous as I'd feared,' Daphne finally went on with a hoarse voice. 'The Killing Curse missed me, but it must have done something to her magic. There was kind of an explosion and I was knocked out cold. I don't know what happened then. I woke up some time later. At least I think so. Harry was in the room, though I didn't recognise him at first. Mum lay on the bed. I rushed over to her and talked to her, tried to wake her up. She wouldn't respond. I begged Harry to help me, to do anything, but he said it was too late, that she was dead.' She palmed her face in her hands and cried silently.

After a few minutes, she looked up. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. 'I don't remember much of what happened then. I think Harry must have informed the crew, because there were the doctor and the captain. Harry offered me the bed in his living room. I was so thankful for that! I couldn't face staying in the rooms where my mother had died for the rest of the trip.' She reached over and clutched my hand.

Auror Proudfoot didn't look up while he finished his notes. I suspected he wanted to give Daphne time to recollect herself. When he finally was finished with his notes, he turned to me. 'Mr Potter, can you add to Ms Greengrass' testimony?'

I nodded. 'I was already sound asleep when I suddenly woke up. Then I heard the voice of a woman beg her mother not to do something and to put something down. There was a loud noise, like an explosion, and I felt a wave a magical energy wash over me.'

He raised an eyebrow and interrupted me at this point. 'Did you recognise the voice?' I shook my head, and he immediately added, 'How did you know then that Miss Greengrass was talking to her mother?'

'I didn't know the voice belonged to Daphne. But I knew the woman was talking to her mother because she used the word "Mum".'

'All right,' Proudfood said after he scribbled some more on the parchment. 'What's that with that magical wave? You're not honestly telling me that you can _feel_ magic?'

'Yes, I can. In fact, I've been able to feel magic ever since I came to Hogwarts, though I never made an effort to improve that skill. Albus Dumbledore showed me how to do it when we were on a mission together the night he died. Later in the year I came across a magical artefact that simply radiated dark magic. After the war, I renovated the house my godfather had left me. It was a death-trap, full of dark magic, and I got lots of opportunities to practise how to feel magic. I think it's a talent that will come in handy if I ever join the Aurors. Though I didn't know that it's that uncommon among wizards.'

'Yet it is,' Auror Proudfoot said while he took some more notes. He looked at me and grinned. 'You must be of the power level of a mage, Potter. Only mages are known to have talents like that. Of course, something like that was to be expected of the Chosen One.'

I rolled my eyes at the silly moniker and hardly supressed a groan. Sensing my discomfort, Proudfoot grinned even broader. With a wave of his hand he motioned me to go on.

'I took my wand and went into the adjoining suite. In the bedroom I found two women, apparently unconscious. Mrs Greengrass lay on the bed, Daphne was on the floor, near the door. I first checked Mrs Greengrass vital signs.' I gulped and gave Daphne, who still held my hand, a look of regret. 'From the way she lay on the bed I already suspected she was dead, and the spell confirmed that.'

Proudfoot gave me a sharp glance. 'Which spell did you use?'

'Revelio Vitam,' I replied, and he seemed to be impressed.

'That's a standard Auror spell you are not taught at school,' he remarked.

'My friend Hermione Granger taught it to me while we were on the run,' I replied.

'That explains it,' he said. 'Go on, please.'

'Mrs Greengrass' hand was grasped around a wand. I took the wand from her and performed "Priori Incantatem" with it. It showed the Killing Curse,' I finished quietly.

'How did the wand look?' Auror Proudfoot wanted to know, and I gave the description. 'Daphne later told me that it was her wand,' I added.

'Where was Miss Greengrass during your examination of the wand?' he then wanted to know.

'Still unconscious on the floor. I pocketed the wand and went over to her. First, I checked if she had a wand on her, but came up empty.'

Daphne looked at me with raised brows. 'And how did you do that, Potter?'

Oops! I felt the heat rush into my face. 'Uhm – I had to feel with my hands,' I admitted.

Proudfoot sniggered at my obvious discomfort, while Daphne gave me a look that made clear how she'd come by the moniker "Ice Queen".

'Pervert!' she said, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

'Then I checked if Daphne was all right,' I hurried on with my story.

'About time!' Daphne uttered under her breath, and Proudfoot sniggered again. That man must have an excellent hearing, I thought.

'I woke her up with "Enervate". She was very distraught and at once hurried to her mother to make sure she was all right. When I'd to tell her that her mother was dead, she broke down.'

Proudfoot scribbled down some last notes. 'Thank you,' he then said. 'Miss Greengrass, is the body of your mother still kept on the ship?'

Daphne shook her head. It was plain to see that the question pained her, but she answered, 'Ambassador Temple had arranged that Mum is transferred to the magical mortuary at Salem as we speak.'

'All right. I guess we have to go there,' Auror Proudfoot replied with a side glance at his still Stunned partner. 'I'll wake him up as soon as we've left. I imagine he'll not be happy about you, Mr Potter,' he chuckled. Then he sobered. 'Please, make sure the Auror department can reach you until this investigation is over. We might have additional questions.'

'I'll be staying on the "Princess Isabella" until May first, and so will Daphne,' I replied. 'During this time you can reach me through my mail box. After that, I'll be back in my house in London. It's still under the Fidelius Charm for security reasons, but Minister Shacklebolt knows where it is.'

He didn't look happy with my answer, but it was all the information about my whereabouts I was going to give him. There were still enough Death Eaters on the loose and I knew that in certain circles a bounty had been promised for whoever would be able to kill me. Not to mention the many Snatchers and sympathisers who never took the mark, officially changed their tunes after the war and now lurked in the shadows, biding their time. The Ministry and especially the Wizengamot was still full of them.

'As Harry said, I'll be staying on board until May, but I don't know where I'll live afterwards. Our house has been destroyed during the last days of the war. I guess I'll rent a flat in Diagon Alley, but I'll let you know where I'll stay as soon as I'm back,' Daphne added.

Proudfoot seemed to like that even less, but made no comment. He shook our hands in good bye, took his still Stunned partner by the arm and Apparated away with barely a noise.

'Now, that was weird,' Daphne said, still staring on the spot where the two Aurors had been only a second before.

'It surely was,' I agreed. 'I wonder what has got into Dawlish. He acted as if he wanted to accuse you of the murder of your mother.'

'Oh that,' Daphne shrugged. 'Actually, I expected something like that. It's one of the many benefits of being a Slytherin. Makes you automatically suspicious until you prove yourself,' she added sarcastically.

I was taken aback. It never occurred to me what impact the last war had on the neutral Slytherin families. Though, I should have expected something like that. Prejudices against Slytherin had already been common before the last war, Hagrid and Ron's attitude to members of the house being prime examples of that. If I really wanted to make a change in the Wizarding World, I also had to do something about that, I mused. Equal rights for shunned minorities like the werewolves and getting rid of the corruption were important goals, but it must apply to every member of our society, not only to the winners of the war.

'What did you mean then?' I asked, choosing to ignore Daphne's sarcastic comment until I'd given the problem more thought.

'I meant you! You sounded like bloody Lucius Malfoy when you talked to Dawlish! That was not the Harry Potter I know from Hogwarts! The kid I knew back then would have crawled under a stone before his fifth year and jumped at Proudfoot's throat after that! You surely have changed!'

I shrugged. 'I grew up. War can do that to you, you know.'

She gave me a long look. 'I sense a story behind that. Will you tell me?'

The question hit me by surprise. I never was one to _talk_. Well, I'd talked to Mr Freid, but that was different. Was I willing to talk to Daphne? I didn't know – yet.

'Maybe one day,' was all I answered.

Strange enough, she seemed to be satisfied with that.

HP - DG

The next morning we rose early. Daphne hardly spoke a word. She looked pale and withdrawn. Today was going to be one of the hardest days of her life. She had to bury her last parent and come to grips with the realisation that she was alone in the world after that.

I knew the feeling. It had been like that for me until I came to Hogwarts, and then again after I broke up with Ginny and was shunned by the Weasleys for that. Though I had worked on coming to terms with that with Mr Freid, it was still hard to going back to be all by myself.

Guessing that Daphne was not in the mood for company that morning, I ordered breakfast to the suite. However, she only nibbled at a slice of toast and drank some tea. My appetite also had left me. Funerals tend to have that effect on me. It was a relief when it was finally time to take the Portkey Ambassador Temple had sent us to the cemetery.

We landed on a snow covered meadow that was situated between two busy main roads of Salem. Lichen-covered tombstones dotted the snowy ground like pockmarks. In spite of the hustle and bustle of the Muggle traffic, the graveyard was eerily quiet. I sensed Privacy Wards and Muggle Repelling Charms around us.

The grave was already dug out. The coffin hovered in the air in front of the grave, suspended there by magic. On one side of it stood who I assumed to be the officiator. He wore black Wizarding robes over a black Muggle suit. On the other side was a couple, both dressed in expensive looking Muggle winter attire. They gave Daphne a respectful nod and stepped aside to let her say a last good bye to her mother.

Daphne grabbed my hand, and together we stepped in front of the coffin. Her face was stony. Her eyes, however, were full of emotions, sadness and loneliness being dominating, but I could also see traces of fear and even anger. She looked down on the coffin of her mother for a long time, gripping my hand so hard that it hurt. Then she nodded at the officiator to begin.

I have to confess, I didn't pay much attention to the eulogy. In my opinion, they are all the same and hardly ever do the deceased justice. How can anyone sum up years of life and love spend together in a few lines? But as a ritual, they serve the purpose to prepare those left behind for the inevitable last good bye. I'd learned to appreciate that during the seemingly never ending string of funerals after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Daphne trembled beside me, whether of the cold winter wind blowing over the meadow or out of grieve I couldn't tell. Finally, the officiator came to an end. He pulled out his wand and moved the coffin over the open grave. Daphne's knees buckled under her, and I put my arm around her to hold her upright. Slowly, the coffin sunk into the grave. That was the moment Daphne's Pureblood façade cracked Tears steamed over her face, and she was hardly able to throw a handful of dirt in the grave as a last farewell. For a long time she looked down on the coffin of her mother, until I gently pulled her aside.

After us, the couple paid their respects, and then the officiator raised his wand again and Levitated the small mound of earth from beside the grave onto the coffin and covered it. Daphne looked as if she'd faint any moment, and I tightened my grip around her shoulders.

The couple walked up to Daphne, giving her their condolences. Then they waited quietly by the side.

For a last time, Daphne stepped to the grave of her mother. Her body was wracked with sobs, and finally she couldn't stand it no longer and buried her face at my chest. I put my arms around her and hugged her, hoping to give her some comfort. When she seemed to calm down, I gently lead her away from the grave toward the waiting officiator and the couple.

The officiator invited us to tea in what he called the Magical Community Centre of Salem. Daphne obviously was in no shape to talk, so I accepted the offer for both of us. I had no idea where to go, but the strange couple seemed to know, for the man pulled a length of rope out of the pocket of his coat and created a Portkey for the five of us to share.

We landed in the backyard of a white house with black shutters that was built in what I later learned was the Federal Style. Though I didn't expect any danger, I'd let my wand slip into my hand the second we departed from the cemetery and now looked around for any possible threat before I stashed it away.

The officiator and the strange couple looked at me with raised eyebrows.

'Sorry, old habits die hard,' I murmured, while I felt the heat creeping into my cheeks.

'Why would you feel the need to guard yourself in our community centre, Mr...?' the officiator asked.

'Potter. Harry Potter,' I introduced myself.

We shook hands, and he introduced himself as Thomas Ingersoll. From the corner of my eyes a saw the couple having a silent exchange with their eyes. The officiator beckoned them forward and introduced them as Ambassador Howard Temple and his wife, Mrs Annabelle Temple. We exchanged the expected pleasantries, while Daphne mostly remained silent and went through the introductions very much like a puppet on a string.

'Well, Thomas, you shouldn't be surprised about the behaviour of this young man,' Ambassador Temple said with a chuckle as we walked up the snow covered path to the back entrance of the house. 'He is Britain's greatest living hero, after all.'

It was well hidden, but I could sense a trace of disdain in his voice. I wasn't fazed at all. Everything about him and his wife screamed "Pureblood", so something like that was to be expected. Even though most Purebloods had changed their tunes after the war, most of them secretly still were supremacists and quite a lot among that number still were Voldemort supporters, if not yet undiscovered Death Eaters. Unfortunately, they still played key roles in Britain's society, something I intended to change in the long run. But today was neither the time, nor the place for that, so I gave him and his wife one of my most charming smiles, as if I was taking his remark as the compliment I was due.

'Are you really?' Ingersoll exclaimed. 'Well, it's an honour to meet you, Mr Potter!'

Used to that kind of talk I gave the appropriate answers while he led us into the house. We entered a small tea salon, and Ingersoll ordered tea and biscuits. Daphne still was withdrawn and didn't talk much, so it was left to me to make rather strained small talk with complete strangers for about thirty minutes. Ambassador Temple and his wife excused themselves after that, saying they had other appointments to attend. It was clear they had come to the funeral only out of a sense of obligation to his office and to a member of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Mr Ingersoll took his leave a few minutes after them, and Daphne and I were finally alone.

Ambassador Temple had provided us with another Portkey back to the suite on the "Princess Isabella". I looked at my wristwatch. After I'd broken up with Ginny I'd replaced the golden watch the Weasleys had given me for my seventeenth birthday with a platinum Patek Phillipe watch. Somehow I felt like I hadn't the right to wear the watch of Fabian Prewitt anymore since they practically cast me out. Though, I still kept the watch in a place of honour in my family vault. The mechanical Muggle watch was less conspicuous, anyway, and more practical for me, since I'd spent most of my time in the Muggle world after I'd left the Burrow. My watch told me that it was near lunch. The "Princess Isabella" was scheduled to leave New York for the next leg of her cruise around the world at five a.m., so I wasn't inclined to return to the ship immediately.

Daphne still was apathetic, and I persuaded her to take a stroll before we returned to the ship. She agreed, and after I'd asked the waitress for directions, we stepped out of the house and found ourselves on Chestnut Street. It was right in the middle of the historical district of Salem, the waitress had told me, and boasted quite a number of well-kept houses built in the Federal Style. Well, I'd never been interested much in history, and I doubted Daphne could find interest in anything that day, so we probably didn't appreciate the nice town as we should have. Eventually, we found our way to the port, but a sharp wind coming from the sea quickly made us retreat in the shelter of the streets again.

I shouldn't have been surprised, after all the town wasn't that big and the cemetery with the family plot of Daphne's mother was one of the three historical cemeteries of Salem connected to the town's magical population, for after a few minutes we again found ourselves at the gate of the cemetery where we'd buried Daphne's mother in the morning. A few Muggles visited the cemetery, obviously enchanted by the history displaced on the old tombstones, but I noticed they gave the fresh grave on the side of the cemetery a wide berth. Apparently, the wards and charms I'd sensed in the morning still were at work.

Daphne grabbed my hand, and together we entered the cemetery. As I'd thought, the Muggles didn't notice us when made our way to the grave of Daphne's mother.

This time, her eyes were dry as Daphne looked at the fresh mound of dirt at her feet. We stood in silence for a long time, until she finally whispered, 'Good bye, Mum.' Then she turned to me. 'I think I'm ready to return to the ship.'

I pulled out the Portkey Ambassador Temple had given me. Daphne held to it, still looking at her mother's grave, and the next second we were whisked away, back to our suite on board of the "Princess Isabella".

I had to admit, I was frozen to the bone. The last winter I'd spent on the run in a draughty tent had given me a deep dislike of being uncomfortable ever again, so when we appeared in the suite, I went to the bar right after I'd shrugged out of my coat and poured each of us a whisky. When I handed the tumbler to Daphne, our hands touched briefly. Her fingers were ice cold.

We sat down on the sofa and sipped our whisky in silence. However, some colour returned in Daphne's cheeks, and she quit shivering. Eventually, I rang the cabin service and asked for a light lunch, though I suspected Daphne still wasn't hungry. She'd eaten this week only out of habit and because I made her, and had visibly lost weight.

After lunch, we settled down in the living room. Daphne looked out of the window at the skyline of New York, though I doubt she saw anything. I attempted to read a Muggle mystery novel, but my heart wasn't in it.

When dusk fell, the butler brought us the obligatory champagne and chocolates. By now, Daphne and I both considered it as comfort food. We drank champagne and ate chocolate while the "Princess Isabella" slowly moved out of the port of New York, her sirens blaring good bye. It was an impressing sight as the skyline, lit by myriads of tiny lights, eventually disappeared on the horizon.

The "Princess Isabella" headed to Fort Lauderdale and the everlasting Florida summer, leaving wintery New York behind. Somehow, I had a feeling that his was an omen, for Daphne as well as for me.


	2. From New York to San Francisco

From New York to San Francisco

The next morning it became clear to me that Daphne took her responsibilities as my personal tutor in anything Pureblood etiquette serious. When I went to bed that night, I knew I had created a monster.

We met in the living room before we went down to the main restaurant for breakfast, as usual. It was obvious that Daphne had decided to overcome the stage of deep mourning. During the last week, I hadn't seen her in anything else but black clothes. This morning, she appeared in grey chinos and an off-white blouse. I'm by no means a fashion expert, but it seemed to me that the light colour of the blouse suited her fair skin much better than black.

'Harry,' she said as we lingered over a last cup of tea after breakfast. Something in her voice immediately made me suspicious. It was the kind of voice Ginny used to employ when she wanted to persuade me to do something I didn't want to do.

'Yes, Daphne?' I replied cautiously. I didn't want to appear rude, but I also didn't want to give her an advantage.

'When was the last time you visited a hairdresser?' She looked at me, her head cocked to one side.

'Uhm – never?' I replied, not sure where this was going.

She looked scandalised. 'You're kidding!'

I shook my head. 'My aunt used to cut my hair. She doesn't like it because it's too unruly and has a will of its own. One day, while I was still at primary school, she shaved it off, except for a small fringe to cover up my scar. It looked hideous, and you can imagine that I dreaded the next morning when I had to go to school. However, my hair grew back over night. After that, my aunt never again tried to cut it and it has stayed like that ever since then.'

Daphne stared at me. 'You mean, you never had a proper hair cut?' When I nodded in confirmation, she broke out in bewildered laughter. 'You really are a man of many surprises, Harry. I've never heard about Metamorphmagus-abilities to assert themselves by accidental magic.'

Now it was my turn to look stunned. 'Metamorphmagus-abilities?'

'You didn't know?' she asked back. I shook my head and she said, 'That you managed to regrow your hair over night and needed no haircut since what - ten years? is a dead give away that you are at least a part Metamorphmagus with the ability to control the growth of your hair. However, it's a shame you never got a proper haircut. Properly styled hair is paramount in Pureblood circles.'

For a very horrifying moment I had a vision of myself with my hair sleeked back like Malfoy's, and I shuddered. It didn't help that she chose that moment to look at me like a cat eying an especially fat mouse.

'Finish your tea, we have work to do!' she announced. Her resemblance to Professor McGonagall at that moment was scary. It was not so much in looks – I doubt you'd find two women as differently looking as Daphne and Professor McGonagall – but in attitude. Since I was used to do as my Transfiguration teacher demanded when she wore that certain expression, I did what I'd been told without further questions.

She led the way out of the restaurant to the elevators. Instead of pushing the button for deck ten and our suite, she pushed the button for deck seven.

I tried to remember the layout of the "Princess Isabella" and I blanched. Besides a couple of suites deck seven contained a huge spa area, and somewhere within the spa area was a hairdresser. My head shot around and I glared at Daphne.

'Woman, what are you up to?' I growled, and she _smirked_. Now I was really afraid.

'Don't worry, it won't hurt,' she said as the elevator came to a stop on deck seven. She took me by the hand and hauled me down the hallway to the reception area of the spa, not heeding my protests.

'Good morning! I made an appointment for a haircut for my friend here. The name is Potter,' she greeted the receptionist.

'Good morning,' the receptionist smiled back. She looked into a ledger in front of her. 'Ah yes, here it is. Mr Potter, you can go right in. Gabby is ready to give you your haircut.' She indicated to a door to her left.

I turned to the door, while a still smirking Daphne made her way over to the waiting area. To be honest, I wasn't that averse to get a proper haircut as I'd made Daphne believe. I only put up some fuss out of principle. Even though I'd asked her to tutor me, it wouldn't do to give her the impression she'd have her way with me just as she wanted. On the other hand, there was no denying she had the sense of fashion and proper attire I seriously lacked. Neither the Dursleys nor the Weasleys were exactly fashion role models. That's why I stopped midways and called, 'Oi, Greengrass!' at her retreating back.

She turned around with a raised eyebrow.

'If you want me to have a proper haircut, you'd better come in with me and see that it's done right.'

She smirked again and walked up to me. Together we entered the hairdresser's salon.

Like all public areas of the "Princess Isabella" – except the restaurants and bars – the salon was furnished with high polished cabinets made out of a reddish wood, with lots of glass shelves in-between, filled with a huge array of beauty products. There was a row with leather chairs in front of mirrors over a marble topped counter, two basins for hair washing were put up in the middle of the room, and there also were the obligatory comfortable chairs beneath hood driers. In short, it looked like a modern mix of Snape's potion lab and a torture chamber.

I was able to identify some shampoo bottles, but had no idea for what the rest of the bottles was used. However, I found it amusing that most of the bottles showed the logo of the Muggle beauty company my grandfather Fleamont had founded, together with some bloke from France. Until today, the Potter family held a big share of that company, from which I got the main part of my yearly income. In fact, I made about hundred fifty times more from my Muggle investments than I did from the not inconsiderable holdings I had in the magical world.

Gabby led me to a leather chair in front of one of the mirrors, and asked me how I'd like my hair cut.

'Uh – Actually, I thought about letting it grow out and hoped that it'd be more manageable then' I said, but was immediately contradicted by Daphne.

'No way! The shape of the back of your head is much too nice to cover it with hair! Besides that, do you really strive for the Malfoy look?'

I felt how I blushed. 'Not really. I thought more of Bill Weasley, Ron's older brother, you know.'

Her expression became thoughtful. 'I know who you mean. He came to our house about a year ago to discuss a new security system with Dad. He surely looks hot, but that doesn't fit in with the kind of respectability you want to achieve.'

She had a point there, and with a sigh, I gave in. 'So, what do you suggest?'

In the end, Daphne and Gabby worked out my new haircut between them. When I rose from the chair, my hair was rather short at the sides and shaved in the neck, but left longer at the top. Gabby had used hair wax to ruffle it into what she proclaimed was a "sexy out-of-bed look", but also said I'd not really need it regularly because of the natural inclination of my hair to stand up in all directions. Most important, I was still able to recognise myself in the mirror.

The haircut was booked to my board account, and we left the spa.

'That wasn't so bad, was it?' Daphne smiled as we took the elevator back to our suite.

I mock-glared at her, and she burst out laughing. It was nice to see her in a merry and playful mood after the depressing time we'd had, even though it was aimed at me. From experience I knew that it was in the human nature to surge back to life after depressing events, though a few setbacks still were to be expected. The human race wouldn't have survived otherwise, I guess.

Back in the suite, we took care of our mail, as every morning. Daphne still was in negotiations with the Goblins of Salem about her mother's trust, so I used the time she was distracted with answering a complicated letter from the Goblins to give Kingsley a detailed report about Dawlish's behaviour during his visit two days ago. Kingsley had promised to send his most experienced Aurors. If that was all he'd come up with, the Ministry was in even worse shape as he'd told me before.

When I was finished, I stood up and stretched. The "Princess Isabella" had made about a third of her voyage from New York to Fort Lauderdale. Heading south, that also meant we'd finally reached a more moderate climate. It was by no means warm yet, but the chilling cold of the north American winter was gone, and I couldn't wait to get back on the running track.

'Care to join me in a run?' I asked Daphne, and she nodded.

'Just let me finish this,' she said and signed her letter.

While I sent our mail through the Banishing Box, Daphne disappeared in the bathroom to change. Unlike most Purebloods, she liked to exercise. Her attitude was probably due to her mother's influence, who'd taught her to enjoy Muggle sports.

A few minutes later, we were running along the track of the upmost deck. To my amazement, Daphne was able to keep up with me just fine, and we didn't stop until we'd both worked up a good sweat.

'That was fun!' she exclaimed as we walked back to the suite to get a much needed shower.

Ever the gentleman, I let her have the first turn. When I was finally showered and dressed, my stomach grumbled and we went to the buffet restaurant, to 'feed the hungry lion', as Daphne phrased it.

During lunch, she delivered the next low blow. 'I've accepted the invitation to the captain's table on your behalf for tonight,' she said as if it was nothing special.

I put my sandwich back on my plate. 'You did what?' It had completely skipped my mind that the start of the next leg of the world cruise would bring another gala dinner on the first day at sea.

Again, she regarded me with that McGonagall-esque no-nonsense look.

'You've asked me to teach you how to behave in Pureblood circles. Those gala dinners aren't much different from Pureblood dinner invitations. So, what better time to get used to it then now?' she asked. Of course, it was a rhetorical question. It was plain to see she had no inclination to let me off the hook.

'Yes, professor,' I sighed and turned back to my sandwich.

She gave me a radiant smile. 'That's the spirit! Keep it up and I'll reward you all Os at the end of the journey,' she quipped.

I couldn't help myself and snorted into my sandwich.

However, the worst was yet to come. When I headed to the elevator after lunch, Daphne took me by the elbow and guided me past the elevators and down a corridor. I knew that the cinema and the library were located on that corridor and briefly wondered if Daphne wanted to check out a couple of books for the afternoon. But she guided me past the entrance of the library toward the bow of the ship. The only place of interest there was the dance club of the "Princess Isabella". I had a strong sense of premonition that nothing good was going to come out of this. Trelawny would have been impressed, I'm sure.

Again, Daphne _smirked_ at me when she opened the door to the club.

Inside, my worst fears became true. It was the time of the daily dance classes. I shot Daphne a withering look, but of course, she was not impressed.

'You complained the other day that you still can't dance,' she smiled.

I was sure that I never _complained_ , but by now I'd learned that it was of no use to discuss with Daphne when she was channelling McGonagall. Not to mention that it was an eminently good idea to learn to dance while I was abroad. But I'd rather be damned than to admit that aloud. Like all Slytherins, Daphne didn't seem to have self esteem problems, and it wouldn't do to add to her ego.

'All right, might as well do something about that as long as we are on board,' I admitted defeat.

I was rewarded with another blinding smile that made me wonder who of the many idiots in my house dubbed her the "Ice Queen".

About forty-five minutes later I was able to dance the slow waltz. Daphne, who of course excelled at ballroom dance, deemed my efforts as "passable".

Back in the suite, I plopped down in the sofa. 'Not even ten Hippogryffs are going to take me away from here,' I vowed.

'You're going to haul your sorry arse into the shower in exactly one hour and dress up for the gala dinner, mister,' Daphne said over her shoulder before she disappeared into the bathroom.

Glad for the reprieve, I reached for my Muggle mystery novel and stretched out on the sofa.

About an hour later Daphne emerged from the bathroom. She still wore the terrycloth bathrobe the shipping company provided, but her hair was done up in an elegant bun and for the first time since we'd met on the "Princess Isabella" she wore make-up.

'Time to get ready,' she reminded me before she disappeared into the direction of the walk-in wardrobe.

I sighed and rose from my comfortable position on the sofa. About thirty minutes later I was showered and shaved and had even managed to style my hair again in the way Gabby did it that morning.

'It's a dinner jacket affair, if you have one,' Daphne called through the open door as I made my way to the walk-in wardrobe.

I'd bought a tailored dinner jacket after I'd booked the cruise, and Daphne let out a very un-ladylike whistle when I emerged from my bedroom.

'Wow, Potter, who'd have thought you had it in you,' she exclaimed, eyeing me appreciatively from head to toe.

'Thanks, Greengrass. You also clean up nicely,' I returned the compliment. To be honest, she did far better than clean up nicely. She looked drop-dead gorgeous in a tightfitting, yet simple black evening gown. The cleavage was modest, which was good, or she'd be the reason for quite a lot of marital arguments on board tonight, considering everything else the gown featured. All of a sudden, the prospect of attending a gala dinner with Daphne on my arm didn't seem that outlandish anymore.

I'd arrived just in time for the butler to serve the customary champagne and chocolates. I don't think Daphne considered it as comfort food that night, and neither did I.

Fortified with champagne we made our way to the restaurant. It turned out the dinner at the captain's table was much less nerve wracking as the dinner during the Yule Ball had been. It might have been because this time I really enjoyed my company.

Inevitably, Daphne and I raised a lot of curiosity. We were by far the youngest members of the dinner party, and I was sure Daphne's story had by now made the rounds on board. But at least, the questions were delivered in a well-mannered way. I'd experienced worse from wizards and witches. The nice American lady beside me, who introduced herself as Alvirah Meehan, was thrilled when she learned that Daphne and I had attended the same boarding school.

'Oh, high school sweethearts,' she exclaimed, and I blushed. Before I could correct her error, she went on, 'You have to tell me everything about your school!'

So I made up a rather convincing story of a small elitist boarding school with an esoteric curriculum. She lapped it all up, but seemed to be disappointed when I told her that Daphne and I weren't girlfriend and boyfriend, but just travel companions.

'What a pity, dear! You make such a cute couple!'

I blushed. It didn't help at all that beside me Daphne assumed her best expressionless society face, though her eyes danced with laughter and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards. Next time, she wouldn't get any champagne before we went down for dinner!

'I didn't know you can lie as glibly as a Slytherin, Harry' she said after we were back in the suite. 'That was an impressing load of dragondung you delivered to that nice lady.'

'It wasn't a lie, I merely circumvented the truth,' I replied and grinned at her.

She snorted. 'Are you sure you're a Gryffidor? You could have done great in Slytherin!'

'Yep, that's what the Sorting Hat also told me at the Welcoming Feast. But I'd met Malfoy before and asked it to put me in another house.'

'Malfoy!' she spat. It didn't sound like an endearment. Then she grasped what I'd said. 'You mean, you could as well have been in Slytherin all these years?'

I grinned and nodded.

She stared at me with wide open eyes. 'I don't get it. Gryffindor's Golden Boy is a closet Slytherin.' She sat down on the sofa. 'I'd never have suspected that. Oh, the irony! You surely didn't advertise that fact while we were at school.'

'Well, I wasn't exactly on chatting terms with any Slytherin back then. You know how it was,' I replied and sat down beside her and loosened my bow tie.

She sighed and leaned back. 'Yeah, Malfoy made pretty clear you were the enemy and that everybody in our house had to treat you like that. If you were a Slytherin, valued your health and didn't want to cause problems for your family, you did what the little ferret wanted. He had the nasty habit to tell daddy whenever someone irked him, and daddy had the money and the political clout to make your parent's life hell. So, you kept your mouth shut and went along with whatever the ferret wanted, no matter how much you'd have liked to get to know Harry Potter.'

Now it was my turn to stare at her. 'I didn't know that anyone in Slytherin wanted to be friends with me.'

'Just the contrary, quite o lot of us, in fact. Actually, when the Yule Ball was announced, Millie, Tracey and I would have given anything to be your date. Blaise even had a Harry-Potter-Action-Doll when he first came to Hogwarts, and I ...' She broke off and blushed furiously.

'Zabini had WHAT? Ugh, never mind.' I grinned and narrowed my eyes at her. 'Tell me, what merchandise related to me did you have when you were small?'

Her face got even redder. 'Harry Potter bedclothes,' she admitted.

My mouth hung open. 'You're kidding!' I finally got out.

She shook her head. 'I'm not. But if you'll ever mention that to anyone, I'll hex you into the next millennium!'

'That's only fair,' I conceded, shaking my head and trying to wrap my thoughts around the fact of Slytherins wanting to be friends with me.

Her thoughts obviously followed the same lines, because she said, 'Apart from that, it would have been hard to get to know you, Harry. You were always so unapproachable with your two bodyguards around. To be honest, I'm amazed how easy it is to get along with you. At school, I've always had the impression you didn't want to have anything to do with someone outside of your select group of friends.'

I almost choked. 'It ... it never occurred to me someone else than Ron and Hermione wanted to be my friend.'

'Why not? Certainly you must have realised how famous you were?'

'Yeah, I did. You'll probably not believe me, but I was never comfortable with that Boy-Who-Lived dragondung when I was younger. I never thought of myself as someone special. Also, I never had friends before I came to Hogwarts. Ron actually was the first friend I ever had and he just happened to stay around and stick with me through thick and thin. I got to know Hermione a little later under circumstances that simply forced us to become friends. It just happened. I'd never have thought of actively trying to find friends.'

She gave me a rather odd smile. 'If I'd listened to Malfoy griping about you, you'd be right. But I have eyes to see in my head, so I knew right from the start you didn't like your fame. I mean, you were terrified when your name came out of the Goblet of Fire, we all could see that. Only someone as blinded by his hate and his own self-importance as Malfoy couldn't. However, I always thought you somewhat haughty while we were at school, with the way you kept to yourself. It wasn't until recently that I realised that you're actually shy.'

I blushed at these words. Of course, she was right. I'd always felt awkward around people I didn't know, especially if they were female, and I never expected someone to take interest in me or even like me. Blame my infernal maternal relatives for that, who told anybody who'd listen that I was an incorrigible juvenile delinquent. She'd stated that she was surprised how easily she got along with me. That was nothing compared to how easy I found it to get along with her, given my track record with the female sex. Of course, it helped a lot that she'd been distracted by her grief and needed someone to take care of her.

She chuckled. 'Don't be embarrassed. It's rather cute. I promise not to tell anyone your dirty little secret and destroy the mystery that surrounds the Chosen One!' She gave me an appraising look. 'Tell me, what has changed, Harry?'

'Huh?'

'You said that you didn't like your fame when you were younger. That implies that you've changed your attitude since then. I'm curious to know why.'

 _Trust a Slytherin to pick up on that,_ I thought. It was something I'd worked out during my sessions with Mr Freid and hadn't talked about with anyone yet, not with Hermione and certainly not with Ron. Our relationship was strained enough right now and I knew he wouldn't understand. I wasn't sure about Hermione. She had a tendency to turn down any idea that didn't come from herself. I'd never have thought of running my idea by a Slytherin, but my gut told me that wasn't a bad thing to do. After all, it was her playground, she'd be able to tell me if I was on the right track or if I'd better forget about it.

'It started right after Voldemort's downfall,' I began and noticed that she didn't even so much as bat an eyelid when I mentioned his name. My estimation of her rose yet another notch. 'You were there, you know how people crowded around me after that.' She nodded to that, and I went on, 'I was their hero, the one they looked up to. They'd come to help me, to fight with me, and too many had lost their lives in that fight, so it behoved me to show my respect for their sacrifice. I stayed, let them celebrate me, thanked them and grieved with them, whatever they needed at the moment. But the whole time it felt unreal, as if I was detached from my body, if you know what I mean.'

She nodded again. 'You were probably in shock. It's how I felt after I'd found my father's body in the ruins of our house and...' she paused.

'Last week?' I finished for her and she smiled shortly in confirmation.

'I hit a rough path right after the battle. I'd lost three friends, one of them being the last link I had to my parents, and I was devastated. Things with Ginny also weren't going well. She'd lost a brother and didn't know how to deal with that. I was so messed up right after the battle that didn't know how to deal with her. On top of that all she was appalled by something that happened to me during the battle.'

'I sense another story there,' Daphne interrupted me.

'You're right,' I replied, 'But I won't tell you.'

She accepted that without any fuss and told me with a motion of her hand to go on.

'I finally broke up with Ginny, thus losing the only family I ever knew. The Weasleys are protective of their daughter and sister, and they didn't take it well that I dumped her for the second time.'

The memory of that last fight I'd had with George, Charley and Percy and the cold shoulder treatment Mrs Weasley gave me afterwards still hurt. Also, I still vividly remembered the Howler Ron had sent me all the way from Australia. I hadn't talked to any of them since I left the Burrow. Oddly enough, Bill and Mr Weasley had stayed out of the fight, but I hadn't had the balls to talk to them since then. The memory made me restless; I couldn't sit still any longer, so I jumped up and went to the fridge to get me a coke. I could feel how Daphne's eyes followed me.

'Of course your noble Gryffindor side prevented you from telling them of her part in your break up, didn't it?' she said and I almost knocked my head at the edge of the fridge. I straightened up, two bottles of coke in my hands. I opened them and handed one to Daphne. While I took a sip out of the bottle, she gave me a reproachful glare, stood up and got herself a glass from the pantry. 'Sorry,' I grinned when she sat down and poured the coke in her glass. 'How did you know that?' Still too restless to sit down, I leaned with my back against the bar.

She gave me a level look over the rim of her glass. 'Because it's something idiotic only a Gryffindor would do.'

I accepted her statement with a grin. 'I'd stayed with the Weasleys after the battle, but things got awkward after my break-up with Ginny, so I left their house and moved to my own house.'

'You've got a house? I always thought your home had been destroyed when Voldemort killed your parents.'

There, she'd mentioned his name without flinching! She really was remarkable, for a Slytherin, that is. 'My godfather left it to me,' I answered her question. 'And a real dungheap it was. He came from a very dark family and the house was filled with dark stuff up to the rafters. Kreacher and I had our hands full cleaning out the bad stuff and renovating the house.'

'Kreacher?'

'My house elf,' I explained. 'I inherited him with the house from my godfather. However, I was on a downward spiral the first few weeks after I'd left the Burrow. I couldn't sleep, I had nightmares and I...' I hesitated, not relishing to tell her about a time that counted among the worst times I'd ever experienced in my life. Given I'd come across some rather mean patches already before that, that was really telling something.

'... drank too much?' she finished the sentence for me. 'You don't have to tell me, Harry. Been there, done that, right after I'd lost my father.'

'Yeah,' I admitted with a blush. 'However, I had still sense enough to realise that I couldn't go on like that. I asked Kingsley for help,' – and I would never admit to anyone how much that had cost me. 'He brought me to a Squib who is a Muggle psychotherapist. I had sessions with him from July until the end of December. It really helped to get things back into perspective.'

Considering her upbringing, I was sure I didn't have to explain to her was a psychotherapist was. She didn't disappoint me and said, 'Yeah, I can see that.'

'Well, during my sessions I came to the realisation that I've been manipulated by others my whole life long. It was because of Voldemort's actions that I became the Chosen One and literally the only human in the world that could stop the monster. It was because of Dumbledore's machinations that I did it willingly, very much like a sheep that went willingly to the slaughter. He made sure that I wasn't raised in a loving environment. It was because of my relatives brainwashing me from when I was a toddler that I actually believed that my life wasn't worth much.'

She gasped at that, staring at me with an expression I didn't know what to make out of. It was a mix of horror and sympathy, but there was also the tiny sparkle of something else that was gone the next moment.

'The therapy taught me to care about myself. I learned to accept me just the way I am, Boy-Who-Lived and Chosen One included. The fame is part of me, without it I wouldn't be the man I'm now. I also found out that I don't want to be manipulated any longer. Everything I did in my life, the things I'm famous for and get celebrated for until today, were forced upon me. I didn't do anything of it out of my own will.'

'You could have run away,' Daphne objected.

I shook my head. 'And leave people I love at the mercy of that monster? I couldn't do that.'

She looked as if she wanted to object to that, but then decided to stay quiet.

'My task could have been much easier if our government hadn't been so corrupted. I think you remember what they did to me just before and during our fifth year.'

She grimaced and nodded.

I raised my hand and stared at it's back. The scar had faded, but if you knew what to look for, the words were still visible. 'I must not tell lies,' I muttered to myself. Bile rose up in my throat. I'd thought I was over it, but the memory still had the power to unsettle me.

A sharp intake of breath startled me out of my thoughts. I hadn't noticed that Daphne got up from the sofa and now stood beside me.

'What is that,' she asked, taking my hand in hers and looking at the fading scar. 'It looks as if the words were cut into your skin permanently by a Blood Quill.' She was obviously appalled by the thought.

'That's because they were,' I replied calmly.

'But ... But that's torture,' she gasped. 'Whoever did that, belongs into Azkaban. Was it the Dork Lord or one of his minions?'

'I doubt she ever took the Dark Mark. Kingsley had every employee of the Ministry checked for that right after the battle. As far as I know she's still working at the Ministry, albeit not in the position she held before. But she surely is a nasty piece of work.'

'Umbridge!' she gasped, her face struck with horror. 'She did it to you to punish you because you'd told the truth and just because she could, because you were an orphan and had no one to defend you.' She looked sick.

I nodded. 'Exactly. Umbridge and her ilk are the reason why I finally decided to use my fame. We need a Ministry that is free from corruption, or the rise of the next Dark Lord is only a matter of time. People like Umbridge have to go. But Kingsley isn't able to purge them out of the Ministry without a strong support in the Wizengamot, or he will be ousted on accusations fabricated by people like her.'

'That's very likely,' Daphne agreed. She listened to my story with rapt concentration.

'Well, I decided to use my fame to get Kingsley the support he needs. My goal is to get a comfortable majority of seats to support him.'

She looked thoughtful, but did not oppose the concept immediately. 'That's a rather ambitious goal, worth of a Slytherin. But then, we've already stated that you are a closet Slytherin, so I shouldn't be surprised. However, expect a lot of your friends not to understand what you're doing and why you're doing it, because it's so out of character for a Gryffindor.'

I grimaced. 'I know. Did you know that most members of the Wizengamot are Ravenclaws, followed by Slytherins and the odd Hufflepuff thrown in? Out of sixty seats there are only two Griffindors.'

'I didn't know that,' she exclaimed, looking rather surprised. 'Are you sure?'

'I did a lot of research on that,' I explained. 'I wanted to know against what I'm up to. For once in my life I don't want to rush into an adventure completely unprepared. I have a feeling that won't do me any good with the members of the Wizengamot.'

'They'd make mincemeat out of you,' she said, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on my hand with her thumb. 'Figuratively spoken, of course.' She gave me a long, level look. 'Have you any idea against what you are up to, Harry?'

'I think I'm beginning to get it,' I shrugged. 'As I said, I've started researching the Wizengamot and how it works, but I'm far from finished with that and, I hate to admit it, far from understanding everything.'

'The seats of the Wizengamot are hereditary,' Daphne began to lecture. 'There are sixty of them, representing the sixty Wizarding Clans that are now known as Ancient Houses and that ruled Britain before the Ministry for Magic was established. During the centuries, a lot of these clans became extinct or the heir isn't known or still minor. By an ancient decree the Ministry for Magic can take over these seats – as long there is no heir that can prove claim to it or the known heir is not yet twenty-one – and appoint it to a Ministry employee. During the centuries, about fifty percent of the original clans died out. As far as I know, about twenty seats are currently occupied by Ministry employees, most of them getting their seat during the Bagnold administration. About ten of the seats were given to wizards or witches who have received an Order of Merlin. Of the remaining thirty seats, fifteen are occupied by dark families, and the rest are occupied by light or neutral families. Since the seats currently held by Ministry employees are appointed for a lifetime, you'd have to find the true heir to the seat or have to prove that the current inhabitant is unworthy to keep the seat any longer. In that case the seat can be revoked by the Wizengamot and given to another house. It has been done in the past as a special reward.'

'I'm impressed. You really know your stuff.'

She shrugged. 'Harry, my family has had a seat on the Wizengamot for centuries. I'm the current Head of House Geengrass, so I was raised to represent my family on the Wizengamot one day. There isn't much about the workings of the chamber I don't know. I'm going to claim my seat as soon as I'll turn twenty-one and am finally eligible to take office. I've been informed that in the meantime Minister Shacklebolt has appointed the seat to Arthur Weasley. I don't mind, my father always said he's a good man. However, to get a majority in support of Minister Shacklebolt's anti corruption agenda on the Wizengamot, you've got to get rid of quite a number of the Ministry-appointed members. Short of presenting the heir to the seat, I don't know how you will do that.'

'Ah, but that's the point. I know of at least six seats currently inhabited by Ministry employees that have to be given back to their houses within the next three years,' I grinned.

'Six?!' She seemed to be surprised by that number. 'I only know about two, Longbottom and Bones.'

'You forgot the Potter seat.'

'Ah yes,' she nodded. 'The Potters belong to the Ancient Houses, but have rarely used their seat. I know of only two Potters who did so, Ralston Potter in the fifteenth century, and Henry Potter back in the twenties.'

I nodded. I'd found out about them when I finally got access to all my family vaults and assets when I turned eighteen.

'You're right. However, very few know that the Potters are also holding the seat of the Ancient House of Peverell,' I told her, somehow smug, and waited for her reaction. I wasn't disappointed.

'THAT'S why you're a Parselmouth,' she exclaimed. 'The Peverells are descendants of Salazar Slytherin. But I didn't know of their connection to the Potters.'

'It dates back to the thirteenth century,' I explained. 'A Potter married the oldest daughter of the last male Peverell then and so became Heir to the Ancient House of Peverell. My family kept that always under wraps because they didn't like the connection to Slytherin.'

She laughed. 'I can see that. But that finally explains why Potters frequently have been sorted into Slytherin over the centuries, much to the dismay of their family. My, Mr Potter, you are full of surprises. Any more you like to share?'

I grinned at her. 'I'm also the Head of the Ancient Houses of Black and Prince.'

'You're kidding, Harry. The Blacks forfeited their seat when the last heir was found guilty of murder by the Wizengamot and was thrown into Azkaban. And the Prince family died out in the eighties without an heir.'

'You're wrong on both accounts. The Black heir was thrown into Azkaban, so much is true, but he never got a trial. Because there was no vote of the Wizengamot, the Black seat couldn't be revoked. I know Minister Bagnold claimed that it had been revoked and gave it to one of her friends, but actually there's no legal ground to that. The last Black died without kids of his own, but he made his godson his heir, who happens to be me. Same goes for the Prince family. The last male heir died around the middle of the seventieth. He had one daughter, who'd died a year before him. They weren't on speaking terms because the daughter married a Muggle, but she'd never been disowned, and her only son became the Head of House. He died during the Battle of Hogwarts. Imagine my surprise when the Goblins informed me six weeks later that he had appointed me as his heir.'

She gaped at me with an open mouth, reminding me strongly of a fish stranded on dry ground.

'Close your mouth, Greengrass, or you will catch a fly,' I grinned.

She glared at me, but shut her mouth with an audible snap. 'So, you'll be holding four seats when you turn twenty-one and are eligible to claim them? It's legal, of course, but I doubt it has been done ever before,' she said when she finally regained the ability of speech.

'Five,' I corrected her, relishing her reaction once more when her head flew up an she stared at me incredulously.

'FIVE?' she repeated, her eyebrows raised.

'I'm going to claim the seat of the Ancient House of Gaunt by conquest as well as by inheritance,' I explained and waited for her reaction with baited breath.

She frowned, obviously trying to figure out my relation with the Ancient House of Gaunt.

'The Gaunts were nutters,' she finally stated, not sounding impressed. 'They were destitute and hired out their seat to the Ministry because of that. The last known male heir was Morfin Gaunt. He went into Azkaban because he was accused with murder of a Muggle family. You should think their seat was revoked because of that.'

I shook my head. 'No, it wasn't. After all, they were only Muggles.' I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my words as I said that. 'I've looked into the Charter of the Wizengamot. A seat can only be revoked if the inhabitant was sentenced to Azkaban for life because of murder of a wizard or witch.'

'I didn't know that,' she said. 'But it makes sense in a twisted sort of way.'

'Of course, you're a Pureblood, you'd agree with that,' I replied. Damned, she'd been rather decent so far, but what did I expect? She was a Pureblood and a Slytherin, she'd agree to any law that supported the Pureblood agenda.

Her eyes threw sapphire daggers at me. 'Don't you dare assume anything about me, Potter! You know nothing about me and my family. How dare you accuse my supporting that Pureblood nonsense?'

I almost recoiled from the wrath in her eyes. 'S...sorry!' I managed to get out, and it sounded more meekly than I care to admit.

She still glared at me. She didn't talk again until she'd made sure she'd stared me into total submission.

'Look, I'm really sorry, Daphne. You're right, I shouldn't assume anything about you,' I finally said, running my free hand nervously through my hair. My other hand, I now realised, was still held by Daphne, who pressed it rather hard right now. It hurt, but I didn't dare to complain, afraid she'd pull out her wand instead and start throwing hexes at me.

Eventually, the wrath in her eyes ebbed away. 'Good,' she said, giving me one last, hard stare. 'My family doesn't support the Pureblood agenda. I won't say we think Muggleborns and Halfbloods our equal, because that would be a lie, we don't. But we welcome them into our society because we know our society needs fresh blood or we'll die out because of inbreeding. Just look what their marriage policy has done to the old Pureblood families like the Blacks or the Gaunts. Nutcases, all of them, or almost-Squibs. Also, our economy needs the Muggleborns. After all, a Galleon from a Muggleborn is worth as much as a Galleon from a Pureblood.'

'That's a rather practical approach,' I ventured to reply. 'Care to tell me why you think yourself above Muggleborns, Daphne?' I couldn't hide that I was miffed at her attitude.

'I don't think myself above them. I said they are not our equal.'

'Sounds the same to me,' I grumbled.

She shook her head. 'No, it means that our backgrounds are different. I won't lie, I have reservations against Muggleborns, but that's not because of their blood status, but because of the ignorance they show to our traditions. They come into our world, not knowing anything about us, but judge us by the Muggle standards and values they have learned. Most of them never make the effort to get accustomed with our society. Just take Granger and her S.P.E.W. I won't deny her heart was in the right place, but she went about it all wrong. You can't help house elves by setting them free. They'll slowly but surely die if they are not bound to a magical family to draw their strength from. Of course it's a shame that some families treat their house elves worse than dirt. But Lucius Malfoy was the bad exception to the rule. Most of us treat their house elves decently and regard them as family members. Granger never cared to ask about that. She just assumed we were all the same and went on her crusade.'

She'd talked herself into a passion and was breathing hard when she finished. Her eyes were blazing, and I was glad that this time her ire wasn't directed against me. She had a point, I had to agree. I'd always felt that Hermione was slightly going over the top with spew. Daphne just gave a sound reasoning why.

'I can see your point,' I told her. 'But if our ignorance irks the Purebloods so much, why are there no classes of Wizarding Culture? After all, there are classes for Muggle Studies at Hogwarts.'

'That would be because of the general attitude of the wizard population toward the newcomers. They come into our world and it behoves them to make an effort to learn about us, just as it behoves us to make an effort to learn about their culture so that we can blend in if we need to. If you really want to learn about Wizarding Culture, there's a whole section at the Hogwarts library dedicated to that topic.'

I was baffled. I didn't know that and it must have shown on my face, because she gave me another icy stare and went on, 'Of course, most Muggleborns would never dare to venture into that section, because they are told by non traditional wizards like the Weasleys, the Longbottoms and the Bones that keeping these traditions is a sign of a Slytherin Pureblood and imply that that equates to being a dark wizard. On the other hand, it won't keep them from raising their own children at least knowing about the old traditions, if not following them. What's that about being bigoted, hmm?'

My head reeled. She'd given me a lot to think about. But she didn't give me the opportunity to dwell on what I'd just learned.

'We digressed, Harry. You were about going to tell me why you can claim the Gaunt seat. So, Morfin Gaunt was the last known male heir and he didn't forfeit the seat because of his time in Azkaban. I get the inheritance angle. The Gaunts were descendants of the Peverells and by extension of the Slytherins, just like you. You can claim that link, albeit it's a weak one. You'd never know if a heir with a better claim will show up. But I don't get the conquest angle.'

'Morfin Gaunt had a sister, Merope, who eloped with a Muggle and married him. Her father and brother never took the steps to disinherit her,' I went on with my story.

'They were probably too stupid to know about that possibility, inbred as they were,' Daphne interjected.

'Probably. Merope gave birth to a son and died shortly after. Before she died, she named her son after his father and his grandfather, Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Daphne gasped again. I'd made Voldemort's real name and his Halfbood lineage public knowledge right after the battle. It had caused quite a lot of malice in the Wizarding World, not to mention the ridicule the known Death Eaters and their families had to endure because of that. It made me wonder why Dumbledore hadn't played that card. It would probably have prevented some families from following the monster.

'That's brilliant, Harry!' she breathed, and I puffed my chest and buffed my fingernails at the front of my shirt, which made her giggle. When she looked down, she realised she still held my hand. Turning a deep shade of red, she let it go as if it had caught fire. I had difficulties to suppress a snort, but it would have been mean to embarrass her even more.

She stepped away from me and let herself plop down on the sofa in front of me, her legs sticking out over the armrest. The hem of her long skirt rode up, revealing shapely lower legs with smooth skin. She crossed her arms behind her head. 'That gives you five votes on the Wizengamot. You can probably talk Longbottom and Bones into voting along your line, so that's seven out of the thirty currently held by the Ministry. You'll need to strip that fraction of at least ten more votes to overcome any resistance against your planned anti corruption campaign, because quite a few of the non-Ministry members of the Wizengamot will oppose you, too, assuming the light and neutral families will follow your vote.'

'I know,' I sighed. 'That's what I'm working on. I try to understand how the Wizengamot works, especially, how the majorities are formed. If I know that, I can go about campaigning to gain a majority for the changes I want to make.'

'You've got your work cut out,' she remarked. 'I can help you there. I can teach you how the Wizengamot works, everything about the official alliances and the secret alliances behind the stages to get through certain projects. For your anti-corruption legislation you can also count on the Greengrass vote. I've told Dad again and again that the wheeling and dealing in the Ministry is a shame and prevents a sustained economic growth, but he didn't dare to join the opposition because he was afraid of the repercussions from the Death Eater families. Thankfully, you've changed a lot in our world, Harry. As a family, the Greengrasses can only benefit from joining your side. Mind you, I won't guarantee you that I'll see eye to eye with you on every topic, but I'll follow you at least with this one. Our society needs to get kicked into the twentieth century!'

We looked at each other and grinned, both knowing that tonight we'd made huge progress into the direction of a future alliance between the House of Greengrass and the House of Potter.

HP – DG

The next day was one of pure holiday bliss, besides the obligatory mail from my Board of Financial Advisors, of course. By now I had resigned to the fact that the extent of the Potter holdings made it necessary that I was always accessible. Mind you, my trustees had done a marvellous job since Grandfather Fleamont died, but they were all too happy to leave the last responsibility to me.

It had become considerably warmer, so we had our run before breakfast.

'I think I'll change to laps in the pool from tomorrow on,' Daphne said on our way back to the suite and lifted her pony tail from the nape of her neck. Her skin was damp with perspiration.

She had a point there, but I still didn't know how to swim. It didn't take her long to get that bit of information out of me, and before I knew what was happening to me, Daphne announced,

'All right, Harry. Swimming lessons have just been added to your curriculum! You simply can't miss out such a fun activity when we're going to visit some of the most beautiful beaches on earth during this cruise.'

I didn't contradict. First of all, I'd always wanted to learn how to swim, and secondly, a look at her face told me she was channelling McGonagall again. I wondered if she had an idea how cute she looked whenever she raised her chin in determination.

The rest of the morning was spent in the usual way. The mail brought a letter from Kingsley to Daphne with a formal apology for Dawlish's conduct.

'Did you complain to Minister Shacklebolt about that idiot?' Daphne asked me, looking up from her letter in surprise.

I nodded while I scanned the letter Kingsley had written to me. 'Yeah. I thought Kingsley should know what's going on in his ministry.'

She left it at that and I returned to my letter.

' _You're right, Dawlish is an idiot and should be kicked out as soon as possible. But the Auror department is dangerously understaffed. The idiot has two feet and two hands and can relieve the few decent Aurors that are left after the war,'_ Kingsley wrote and I sighed. The aftermath of the war and the constant exchange with Kingsley had taught me that things were never as black or white as I'd believed while I was still at Hogwarts. Kingsley was a good man and he really wanted to change things, but his hands were tied. The coffers of the Ministry were empty and he had to deal with a for the largest part incapable and inflated administrative organisation, not to mention the strong opposition he still faced on the Wizengamot. The only bright spot was that the Minister for Magic, once elected by the Wizengamot, usually stayed in office until he decided to step down. A vote of no confidence, as Fudge had been submitted to, was extremely rare. That gave us time to work on the changes we wanted to make in the background. For the first time of my life I was into something for the long run. This wasn't going to be over by the end of the school year like my former adventures. I needed patience for this, an attribute I wasn't sure I possessed.

We went to lunch after that. All hopes that Daphne would be content that I was able to dance the slow waltz and stop the dance class vanquished as she led me straight to the dance club after lunch. I gave into the inevitable. An hour later, my feet hurt, but I could now dance the foxtrot.

The sunny and balmy weather lured me out onto the veranda. The veranda of our suite really was one of a kind. It encompassed the suite on its whole length and width on two sides. The part overlooking the bow of the "Princess Isabella" was big enough to house two deckchairs and a small table as well as a sun island under an awning. The part on the side of the ship was smaller and had only two comfortable looking deck chairs standing there.

I was drawn to the big sun island. Some caring soul from the house service had already placed a warm blanket there, since the wind still was rather chilly. I entered the sun island and covered myself with the blanket. From here, I saw only blue sky dotted with tiny white clouds and the sparkling, deep blue sea. I folded my arms behind my neck, closed my eyes and let my face bathe in the sunshine.

'You look cosy there,' Daphne's voice interrupted my dreams. I hadn't noticed her coming out onto the veranda and laying down on one of the deckchairs.

'It is cosy,' I confirmed. 'You're welcomed to join me. There's room enough for two here.'

I didn't have to tell her twice. The next moment she entered the sun island and slipped under the blanket beside me.

'This is really comfortable,' she said, stretching out on the lush cushions.

I opened my eyes just long enough to see she directed her wand at me. With one move, I shot upright, grabbed her hand and forced the wand out of her fingers.

Her eyes widened in shock. 'Harry, what was that for?' Her voice sounded hurt.

I narrowed my eyes at her. 'You were pointing your wand at me!' I accused her.

'Why, yes. I was just going to cast a Sunscreen Charm on you. I thought you probably forgot to cast one. Dad always did and complained about sunburn the next day.'

My grip around her wrist lessened. I felt really foolish. 'Sorry,' I mumbled and handed her wand back to her. 'For a moment I thought ... oh bugger, just forget it.'

She put her hand on my arm. 'You thought I was going to hex you, didn't you?' Her voice was full of understanding, and I nodded sheepishly.

'Don't worry about it, Harry. I should have known that you'd react like that. After all the time you spent on the run last year that was only to be expected. I didn't think, so I have to be the one to apologise to you. I'm really sorry that I startled you and brought back bad memories.'

We looked at each other. The embarrassment I saw on her face mirrored mine, and we both broke into laughter.

'All right, let's do this right this time,' Daphne said, still chuckling. 'Do you want me to cast the Sunscreen Charm on you, Harry?'

'Go ahead,' I invited, and she silently performed the charm on me.

We settled back into a comfortable silence, both enjoying the sunshine and the warmth.

'You were wrong yesterday, you know,' I finally interrupted the silence.

'Huh? What are you talking about?' Daphne asked. She sounded bewildered.

'About what you said about Muggleborns and that they should make an effort to fit into the magical world, because wizards and witches make an effort to fit into the Muggle world. The latter isn't true. Wizards and witches don't make that effort. It's half-hearted at the best,' I elaborated.

'But we have Muggle studies and the leaflet the Ministry provides about how to behave like Muggles,' Daphne objected.

I snorted. 'You must be joking. Have you ever looked into the Muggle Studies textbook? To say it's antiquated is like saying Hagrid is a little on the big side. It's ancient and I bet it hasn't been edited since the Edwardian era. And if the Ministry leaflet is like anything I've seen from our government, it's probably rubbish. I was at the world cup and I've seen what wizards consider being like a proper Muggle. It was ridiculous. One bloke wore a women's nightgown and insisted it was proper Muggle attire! I've seen Mrs Weasley going to Kings Cross in the middle of the day, wearing an evening dress!' I shook my head and looked at her. 'No, Daphne, wizard and witches don't make an effort to get to know the Muggle world. Tell me, if that's so, why should the blame for not knowing about Wizarding culture only be laid at the feet of the Muggleborns?'

She'd sat up and folded her arms around her knees while she listened to me. Instead of answering my question right away, she asked, 'You've given that a lot of thought, didn't you?' An odd smile played around her lips. 'Thank you, Harry. As a Slytherin girl I'm not used to a boy actually listening to me and considering my point of view worthwhile.'

'Hey, I've listened to you when we talked about the Wizengamot and when we discussed what I needed to learn about the Wizarding world and Pureblood traditions,' I protested.

'That was different. We spoke about a possible alliance between our houses and we bargained over what you were going to get in return for letting me stay here with you until May,' she contradicted. Not giving me the time to answer to that, she went on, 'I see your point. In continuation of your reasoning that means that not only the curriculum for Muggle studies has to be overhauled, but also that a class for Wizarding Culture needs to be introduced at Hogwarts.'

I hadn't thought that far. 'All right, you're already ahead of me,' I chuckled.

'You'd need to talk with Headmistress McGonagall about that,' she mused. 'She has some leeway about the curriculum and can introduce Wizarding Culture as an extracurricular activity. To make it part of the curriculum, the Wizengamot has to approve. A change of books in Mugglestudies should be possible as long as you find a better one that's also Ministry approved.'

'You seem to know an awful lot about that,' I remarked. Again, she'd impressed me with her knowledge about the workings of our government.

She shrugged. 'Dad taught me how to set changes in motion. Since I was still at school back then, he thought it'd be easiest for me to learn how I had to go about a change I wanted to make at Hogwarts. He taught me who was in charge of the different aspects of our education, who held the office in question and how to approach them.' Her voice sounded wistful.

'You miss him as much as you miss your mother,' I stated quietly.

She nodded, while a single tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away in an impatient motion. 'Mind you, Dad and I never saw eye to eye about the matters we discussed. I was much too progressive for his taste. He blamed it on Mum's disastrous American upbringing, as he called it, and her bad influence on me, but of course he was only taking the mickey. Though, we had pretty hard arguments, but we loved each other nonetheless.'

By now, her tears were running freely, and I put my arm around her and let her cry on my shoulder once more.

'Sorry, Harry, I resolved after Mum's funeral not to be a leaking hosepipe anymore,' she said with a thick voice after she'd cried herself out.

I didn't want to tell her, but I knew she was going to cry for both of her parents many times still to come, so I just gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Daphne extricated herself from my arm. 'I think it's about time I get ready for dinner,' she announced, avoiding my eyes. She slipped off the sun island and walked into the living room.

'Are we not going to have dinner at the suite?' I called after her.

'Nope. We're going to have dinner at the "La Gondola". It's time for you to learn how to behave in a posh restaurant. Purebloods go to places like that all the time.'

I groaned theatrically and was rewarded with a giggle before the bathroom door closed.

About a hour later I appeared in the living room, dressed as instructed in a light grey suite with a matching dress shirt, albeit without tie.

Daphne looked at me critically. 'Saville Row?' she asked, and I nodded.

Grandfather Fleamont's portrait had me pointed to his former Muggle tailor. When I first visited the family vault on my eighteenth birthday, I'd still worn Dudley's cast offs. Three months after the battle I wasn't yet in the shape to go shopping. Grandfather Fleamont, whose portrait had been stashed away in the family vault to keep it safe during the first war, had been delighted to see me, but had almost immediately taken offence at my appearance and insisted I had to visit his Muggle tailor and order a complete wardrobe. Happy I'd finally met one of my relatives, even though only on canvas, I'd complied. But if I had to be honest, it was not really my style, though I still had no idea what my style was.

Daphne seemed to share my sentiments, for she wrinkled her nose. 'It's all right, I guess. A trifle stiff, maybe, but if you're happy with it ...'

'I'm not,' I interjected, foolishly and much too quick.

Daphne cocked her head and regarded me with a gleam in her eyes. 'I suppose we can do something about that tomorrow,' she mused. She looked at me and laughed. 'Don't give me that deer-caught-in-the-wandlight look, Harry. I promise it won't hurt!'

'Says you!' I grumbled while I led her out of the suite.

The "La Gondola" was a small Italian restaurant off the main restaurant. The shipping company advertised the fact that it was under supervision of an Italian chef who'd earned I don't know how many stars in the _Guide Michelin_ for his main restaurant. To me that only meant that they probably won't serve pizza.

Daphne gave me a reproachful look when I mentioned that after the maitre d' had handed us the menu and retreated discreetly, though the corner of her mouth twitched.

Thanks to the many times Aunt Petunia had forced me to cook for the Dursleys, I was able to make head and tail out of the Italian names of the dishes. Aunt Petunia liked to boast with Italian cuisine whenever they had company, so by the time I was eleven, I knew the recipes in her Italian cookbook by heart. Daphne and I discussed what to choose, but in the end we went with the recommendations of the maitre d' and were not disappointed.

After the meal, we ambled back to the elevators. The three bars on deck four still were fairly empty. Most passengers were heading to the theatre at the bow of the ship where the daily show program was going to start soon. I asked Daphne if she wanted to see the show, but she still wasn't in the mood to go out. In the end, we agreed to a short stroll around the promenade deck and headed back to the suite right after.

The next morning found us ready to leave the ship at eight a.m. The "Princess Isabella" had dropped anchor at Port Everglades while we were still at breakfast in our suite. The port was in an industrial area, but the glimpses we'd caught of the city as the ship manoeuvred into Stranahan River were inviting.

We'd booked a private airboat tour through the Everglades. As we left the gangway, a car and driver were already waiting for us. The drive wasn't long. Not even an hour later we'd boarded the airboat and put somehow squishy earplugs in our ears. Then we headed out into the Everglades at full speed, though I had to say the big ventilator behind us made an infernal noise that couldn't be suppressed completely by the earplugs. I wished I could cast a Silencing Spell, but of course that was impossible with our Muggle tour guide on board. By the suffering look on Daphne's face I could tell she shared my sentiments.

Soon after, we reached our destination, and the tour guide curbed the engine. The airboat slowly glided through the swamp, and our tour guide regaled us with facts about this amazing landscape. He pointed out the infamous alligators – swimming handbags Daphne called them jokingly – and the many plants that grew there. What really impressed us were the many magical animals and plants we saw, but of course couldn't talk about them in front of our guide. Daphne swore afterwards she counted at least four different species of magical frogs, while I was sure I'd seen an ancient Snargaluff in the hammock he showed us. The tour ended with a visit at the guide's house, where we had a breath-taking view from the rooftop deck.

We were back in the city around noon. Daphne'd asked the driver to drop us off near a street called Las Olas Boulevard instead of returning us to the cruise terminal. Again, I had a strange sense of premonition when I realised Las Olas Boulevard was lined by countless little shops and boutiques.

Daphne grabbed me by the arm and led me straight to a boutique which sold men's fashion.

'Daphne, I really don't need any more clothes,' I protested.

She turned to me and _smirked_. 'Of course you do. You've complained just yesterday evening that you don't like your suites.'

'I didn't complain,' I replied, rather hotly.

'You did!'

'Did not!'

'You did!'

We were still bickering back and forth when Daphne dragged me into the shop. I'd like to think of myself as slightly better mannered as Ron, so I immediately kept quiet when a sales assistant walked up to us and required after our wishes.

'My friend here is looking for light summer suites, with matching shirts, of course, and maybe a tie or two,' Daphne told him with a triumphant side glance at me. Had she been fifteen years younger, she'd have her tongue stuck out at me.

About an hour later, I had two more suites and half a dozen more shirts in my wardrobe, and about ten thousand quids less on my bank account. Slightly dazed, I followed Daphne out of the shop and into the pizzeria next door.

'You look pensive,' she observed after the waitress brought our drinks and took our orders for pizza.

'I'm still not used on spending so much money for clothes, and especially not on clothes for me,' I admitted.

She frowned and looked around. The tables around us were still not occupied, and the other patrons of the pizzeria seemed all to be engaged in conversations. 'Why's that? Everyone knows that the Potters are loaded. It's common knowledge in Pureblood circles that your grandfather hit a goldmine when he became cofounder of that Muggle beauty company,' she said in a low voice.

'Everybody knew, except I,' I replied, somewhat bitterly, and took a sip of my coke. 'I didn't find out before my eighteenth birthday. If you grew up wearing the cast-offs of your whale of a cousin, it's not easy to get used to designer clothes.'

She gaped at me, but was prevented from a reply by the waitress who served our pizza. I felt already uncomfortable, having given away such a personal detail from my life with the Dursleys, and immersed myself in the delicious pizza in front of me, and pretended to ignore the pensive glances Daphne gave me throughout our meal. At least she kept silent and wasn't bombarding me with questions, unlike Hermione.

After lunch, we still had a couple of hours left until we had to return to the ship. We took a watertaxi to the beaches. The beach really was amazing, seemingly stretching for miles in each direction. We kicked off our shoes and walked in the surf, kicking the small waves with our feet like children. I don't remember when I'd felt that carefree for the last time.

We were among the last passengers that returned to the "Princess Isabella". I had sand in my shoes, and my face burned, a painful reminder that I'd forgotten to renew the Sunscreen Charm Daphne had applied on me before we'd left the suite that morning. But that day was marked in my book as one of the most relaxing times I'd had for ages, in spite of the shopping trip.

Daphne had mercy and agreed on having dinner at the suite, so I grabbed a beer from the bar and lounged on the sun island. Daphne joined me a few minutes later, also a bottle of beer in her hand. I raised my eyebrows at her.

'You've got a bad influence on me, Potter,' she shrugged and I grinned.

We clinked our bottles and watched how the "Princess Isabella" was slowly manoeuvred out of port. It really had been a perfect day.

HP – DG

Two days at sea followed, while the "Princess Isabella" made her way into the Caribbean.

'Get up, lazybones,' Daphne called early the next morning.

I rubbed my eyes and grabbed for my glasses. Daphne stood in the doorframe, the terrycloth robe draped over her shoulders. Beneath, she wore a modest one piece swimsuit. The simple cut left no doubts that she had a perfect figure. What a nice way to start the day!

'Put on your swim trunks and let's get going!' she urged. She was exited as a small child at the prospect of swimming.

A couple of minutes later we left the suite and headed to the pool. The pool deck was deserted. I yawned. 'Woman why did you have to drag me out of bed at this unholy hour of the day?'

'Because you told me the other day you wanted to learn how to swim,' Daphne replied.

I opened my mouth to contradict, since I was sure these swimming lessons had been her idea, but when I once again saw that McGonagall-esque expression on her face, I shut it quickly, afraid she'd give me detention.

Though it was still early, it was already rather hot. In contrary to that the water of the pool was cool and refreshing. Daphne showed me the correct movements, and after a surreptitious look around, she pulled her wand out from between her breasts. She grinned as she saw that I blushed like a girl.

'You've got to tell me where you got that amazing invisible wand holster,' she grinned. 'I want one of those, too! Until the, I have to stash away my wand the old fashioned witches way. I'm now going to cast the spell on you that my mother used when she taught me how to swim. It will keep you above water while you practise the movements and wear off eventually the better you get.'

'Go ahead,' I said, and after another glance around she cast the spell. It really was amazing. I was able to keep up with Dsphne while she did her laps in the pool, though I'm certain she looked much more graceful than I. It was obvious that she enjoyed being in the water.

'You seem to feel at home in the water,' I remarked on our way back to the suite.

Daphne looked around. When she was sure the hallway was empty, she took my arm and leaned into me. 'There's this legend in our family grimoire that my mother's family are descendants of a sea nymph. I don't know whether it's true, but fact is my mother loved to swim and loved to visit the seaside, and so do I.'

We laughed and went to our suite, to shower and dress for our well earned breakfast.

That day, a rather thick package arrived for Daphne through the Banishing Box. I admit I was curious, but though she looked rather excited when I handed it to her, she didn't say what it was and I didn't want to pry. For the rest of the morning Daphne immersed herself in the stack of papers, oblivious to my curious glances.

Any hope I'd harboured that she'd want to return to the papers after lunch was shattered when she dragged me off to the dance club – again.

One hour later I rested my burning feet on the sun island, but at least I could now dance the Viennese waltz. About an hour later Daphne shooed me into the bathroom. 'Get ready, Harry, the Captain's Cocktail is about to start in an hour.'

I groaned. 'Daphne, are you really going to tell me that Purebloods are doing cocktail parties?'

'Silly, of course they do. About seventy percent of them are secret alcoholics and they'd take advantage of every opportunity to get a free drink,' she said. Her calm face didn't give away if she was just taking the mickey.

The cocktail party took place in one of the smaller bars and was for passengers of the world cruise only. Daphne had persuaded me – or rather demanded of me – that I'd wear one of the new suites. To me, one grey suit looked like the other, but I couldn't deny that there were subtle differences that made this one look much cooler than the one Grandfather Fleamont's tailor made for me. Judging by the approving glance Daphne gave me when I took her arm to guide her to the party, she was of the same opinion.

We'd barely entered the bar, when the nice American lady we'd met at the gala dinner waved at us.

'Daphne, Harry, it's so nice to see you here. I had no idea you'd also booked the world cruise. Oh, you remember my husband Willy, don't you?'

Daphne and I shook hands with the pudgy friendly woman and her unassuming husband and made some small talk while we waited for our turn to shake hands with the captain.

Maybe it was because I wasn't a naive schoolboy anymore, maybe it was because of the hilarious stories Alvirah told of her and Willy's adventures as lottery millionaires, but I actually enjoyed myself.

The next day was spend in the same manner. Again, Daphne poured the whole morning over the papers she'd received yesterday, but she still didn't tell me what she was working on, and I didn't ask. After my daily torture (quickstep) I retreated to the sun island and worked on my tan, while Daphne turned back to her papers as if drawn by a magnet. She didn't even object when I suggested dinner at the suite to avoid to having to wear a suit two days in a row.

The next morning we arrived at Willemstad, Curacao. During the cocktail party Alvirah had rhapsodised about the shopping facilities the town offered, while Willy smiled indulgently at his wife. Apparently, she and Willy frequently took cruises to the Caribbean and Alvirah knew all the best places to shop. Noticing the gleam in Daphne's eyes, I once again had a strong sense of premonition, but when we were asked to book the tours for Willemstad, she'd insisted that I'd chose.

Knowing how much she loved to swim, I'd suggested an hour of swimming with dolphins that was offered at the local aquarium. Daphne's eyes had lit up at that, and when the "Princess Isabella" arrived at Willemstad, she was as excited as a small child about to visit the fair.

'Come on, Harry, what are you waiting for?' she asked and took my hand to drag me down the gangway to the waiting taxi. The drive to the aquarium wasn't long. The dolphins were kept in a lagoon next to the aquarium. Daphne again had cast the spell on me that enabled me to stay above water, since I wasn't that confident in my new abilities yet. We got an introduction how to deal with the animals, and then we were allowed to swim next to the gentle creatures. It was an unforgettable experience to be dragged through the water by one of the great mammals. All too soon the fun ended. Daphne and I explored the interesting aquarium, but then took a taxi back to the pier and the old town of Willemstad to grab some lunch. While we drove back, she leaned into me and kissed my cheek.

'Thank you, Harry, for choosing this tour. I know you're not that comfortable in the water yet and did it only because you knew I'd enjoy it. I had a wonderful time, not only because of the dolphins, but also because of my company!'

'Uhm -!' was all I managed to get out while my cheeks went hot. I'm sure my blush could have rivalled any Weasley's.

'Eloquent as always,' Daphne laughed and gave me another peck on the cheek. 'Please, never change, Harry!'

I was saved from an answer by the taxi arriving at our destination.

HP – DG

Another day at sea followed. The morning after we arrived at Cartagena, Columbia. We took the bus to the historic centre together with the other passengers. The moment I stepped out of the bus, I felt uneasy. There was something _off_ with this place.

Daphne stepped beside me and took my arm. From the way she stood as close as possible to me, I could tell that the place also gave her the creeps. Her face was a calm mask of politeness, as always when we were in public, but her eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings and watching out for possible threats, just like mine.

We followed the tour guide to the historic centre. Daphne still kept close by my side, holding my hand in a death grip. I couldn't blame her. The hairs on my neck raised when we entered the historic district, and I was ready to draw my wand any second.

Admittedly, the old town was beautiful. I was not surprised when our tour guide told us that it was a World Heritage Site. It finally hit me when the tour guide told us about the role slaves played in the founding of this beautiful place, and the times of the Spanish Inquisition. The old buildings around us simply _reeked_ of dark magic.

Finally, the tour was over and we were told we had some time to explore the historic district on our own. Daphne and I shared an uneasy glance.

'Do you want to explore?' she asked.

I shook my head. 'No. This place gives me the creeps. I'll be damned if I venture in one of those narrow alleys. I might be a Gryffindor, but I've had my fill of bloodcurdling adventures, thank you very much!'

She laughed at that and dragged me to one of the small cafes that lined the main square. It was still before lunch, but the temperature was already beyond 25° C, so I wasn't averse to a cool drink under a shady awning.

We sipped our cokes and watched the people milling around us. Suddenly, Daphne's eyes grew wide. She touched my arm with her hand. 'Harry, look!' She motioned to an old woman slowly walking across the square.

The woman wore a long robe in a violent pattern of yellow, red and green and a pointed hat made of straw. Everything about her just screamed "witch" to me, but the tourists and inhabitants of the city didn't spare her another glance.

Our attention piqued by the old woman, we soon saw more witches and wizards among the muggles crowding the square. They went on about their business and no Muggle gave them as much as a side glance.

'This must be a place like Godric's Hollow, where wizards and witches live together with Muggles, but the latter not knowing about it,' Daphne mused as we slowly ambled back to the agreed upon meeting point to join the rest of our group.

We had to walk through one of the narrow alleys. It was lined with low, colourful residential houses. Their shutters were down to keep out the heat. Exotic flowers adorned the windows and lined the entrance doors. Bathed in sunshine, the alley was deserted, quiet and peaceful. And yet, the hairs on my back stood up. I let my wand slip in my hand, while my eyes darted around, trying to find out what was so unsettling about my surroundings.

Daphne also had her wand in her hand, I noticed. She looked calm, but her eyes darted around, just like mine.

Suddenly, six wizards Apparated in front of us. They wore the violently patterned, colourful robes and pointed straw hats we'd learned to associate with the native magical population. The colour of their skin varied from a light, yellowish brown to a dark brown, and they all had shaggy black hair.

'Give us your Galleons or we will kill you!' the one I supposed was their leader demanded.

The second I'd heard the cracks of Apparition I'd retreated to a wall and shoved Daphne behind me.

'I don't think so,' I replied. 'If you want my Galleons, you have to come and get them.'

Daphne punched my back and hissed something that sounded like 'Idiotic Gryffindor!', but I didn't turn around. My attention was trained on the six thugs in front of me and their wands. I saw the supposed leader raising his wand, but before he could cast a spell, I sent a wide-area Blasting Curse at their feet, causing the street to blow up and throw sand and debris in their eyes. Two of the thugs were down and didn't move, but four were still standing, though their view was obviously capacitated by sand in their eyes. I shot a couple of well aimed and silent 'Expelliarmus' at them. Three wands sailed towards me and I caught them with my free hand. At the same time, the two wands of the thugs on the ground flew towards us.

'Gotcha!' Daphne crowed and caught them. Apparently she'd used a silent Summoning Charm while I dealt with the four thugs who were still standing.

The supposed leader still had his wand in his hand. He glared at me with murder in his eyes. Suddenly, his eyes widened in recognition.

' _Enrique el Alfarero!_ ' he screamed in a high-pitched voice. It didn't sound like an endearment. He raised his wand again and shouted 'Aveda Kedavra!'

The sickening green light of the Killing Curse flew toward me as if in slow motion. I froze. I was back again in the forest. The swarthy face of the thug in front of me morphed until it became Voldemort's snakelike face. I knew I was going to die, this time for real. This time, there was no thought of love to comfort me during my last seconds on this earth. I'd lost Ginny. There was nothing left for me that was worth living for.

CRACK!

In the next moment I found myself in the living room of our suite at the "Princess Isabella". A very irate Daphne Greengrass pummelled my chest with her fists.

'You idiot! You fucking brave Gryffindor! What the hell were you thinking to take on six thugs at a time? Next time you get a Killing Curse thrown at you, MOVE!'

She was shaking like a leaf and tears poured down her face.

I had to admit, I also was shaken and my knees felt like jelly. I put my arms around Daphne to steady myself. She gave me a last hard punch, then threw her arms around me and cried.

We both needed a couple of minutes to calm down while we clung to each other for dear life. Then Daphne pulled away and glared at me with bloodshot eyes.

'Thank you, Daphne. You saved my life out there,' I said. My voice was thick.

'Don't you forget it, Potter!' she hissed. Then her face became soft. 'Harry, what in Merlin's name happened to you? You practically froze!'

I hugged her a last time and then let her go. 'I have no idea. When that Killing Curse hurtled towards me ...' I broke off. The memory made me break out in cold sweat. After a pause I tried again. 'I was suddenly back in the forest, you know.'

Her eyes had never left my face. 'You mean, when you've gone to Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts?'

I nodded. Suddenly, I felt the urge to tell her everything. But not now. The Muggles waited for us to return to the bus. Maybe tonight... Aloud I said, 'We have to get back. The Muggles will have kittens if they discover that we managed to return to the ship without passing their security checks.'

'All right,' she gulped. 'Just a minute, it wouldn't do for the Muggles to see that I've bawled my eyes out. But we will talk about this, Harry!'

With that she disappeared in the bathroom and returned a minute later, her face immaculate.

Fifteen minutes later we sat in the bus that brought us back to the ship. We'd Apparated behind a row of rubbish containers and were the last to come back to the bus. That had of course led to a lot of teasing from the older couples who seemed to make up the majority of the passengers, that young people were never able to be on time. Still like on autopilot, we followed our group to lunch, though neither Daphne nor I managed to eat much, and took the first opportunity to excuse ourselves.

We were both emotionally exhausted when we were back in the suite and slumped down on the sofa.

Daphne reached for my hand. 'Do you want to talk, Harry?'

Oddly enough, I wanted. 'Yeah.' I took a deep breath. 'Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort, was afraid to die. He took certain precautions to make sure to anchor his soul to this world. That's what I said during the interview I gave on the wireless after the battle. Everyone who was in the Great Hall before Voldemort fell, heard me telling that he made Horcruxes to prevent himself from dying.'

She nodded. 'I remember you used a strange word I've never heard before and that he seemed to become agitated, and then he threw the Killing Curse at you.' She shuddered and pressed my hand. 'I forgot all about it after I returned home.' Her voice faltered.

'Well, you had enough on your plate then,' I replied. 'I'm not so conceited to think you should have paid my words more attention. In fact, most people who were there didn't understand what I was talking about. Which was lucky, because Kingsley doesn't want to become Horcruxes public knowledge. In fact, there are only four people I told about this, Ron and Hermione, Kingsley and ... Ginny.'

If she noticed me hesitating before I said Ginny's name, she didn't recommend on it.

'A Horcrux is a soul container, an item prepared with dark magic to keep a part of the soul safe. You'd have to commit a murder first to split your soul into two halves.'

Daphne paled. 'That's horrible! And Voldemort made one of this?"

I shook my head. 'He made six, at least six that he knew of. He wanted to split his soul into seven pieces, because he considered seven to be the most powerful magical number.'

Her eyes went wide with horror and her face had a slightly green hue. 'Six Horcruxes? He must have been mad!'

'I don't know about Voldemort as a young man, but during the last year he was certainly unbalanced and had no control over his emotions,' I agreed. 'When he came to murder me on Halloween 1981, he'd already made five Horcruxes, and that had changed his appearance. He looked more like a snake than a human, even back then. Dumbledore theorised that with each time he made a Horcrux, he tore the remaining part of his soul into halves. This means that he had only about three percent of his original soul left when he came to kill me.'

Daphne gasped. 'I think I know where this is going to go,' she interrupted me. 'When he tried to kill you, something went wrong and the curse backfired at him. He couldn't die because of his Horcruxes, but his soul was already so unstable that it split again and ... and the tiny piece of his soul latched onto you. _That's_ how you got your famous scar. Oh Harry!' Her face crumpled and she launched into me.

It took her some time to regain her composure. I was thankful for the reprieve. The last person I'd told that tidbit of information was Ginny. She certainly hadn't launched herself into me. Quite the contrary, she'd become rigid with horror and recoiled from me.

Daphne pulled away from me. She raised her hand and her fingertips touched the barely visible line on my forehead. 'He's dead, so you must have got rid of him. Your scar also looks different like it did during our school days. What ...' An expression of horror and comprehension appeared on her face. She gasped. Her fingertips still lingered on my scar. 'Oh no!' she breathed.

'I found out about that piece of Voldemort in my scar during the battle. The only way to get rid of it and make sure that Voldemort could be finished off this time, was to let him kill me. _Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other one survives_ the prophecy said. So I went to him. He and his minions were in the Forbidden Forest. I let him cast the Killing Curse on me. My last thought before the curse hit me was Ginny, the way her lips felt on mine and the way she used to look at me.' My voice sounded oddly detached, as if it didn't belong to me. 'The same Ginny who vomited when I told her that I'd had a piece of Voldemort inside of me and who couldn't bear to touch me ever after.'

I took a deep breath. 'When that thug started to scream at us, his voice reminded me of Voldemort's. Then he cast the Killing Curse at me, and I froze. I was suddenly back in the Forbidden Forest and it was Voldemort who cast the curse. This time I knew I was going to die, but there was no loving memory to make it easier. Ginny made pretty clear that she abhors me.'

My sight became blurry. I was vaguely aware that Daphne pulled my head onto her shoulder and rocked me gently. For the first time since I could remember, I cried.

HP – DG

I woke up to the grey light of dawn. My head lay on a soft cushion that moved up and down ever so slightly, and I was cuddled up to a warm body. Opening my eyes, the first thing I got was a prime row view of Daphne's breasts, which I currently used as a pillow. I felt how the heat rushed into my cheeks and I hastily sat up, thus waking Daphne.

Her eyes fluttered open. 'Good morning,' she smiled at me.

'Good morning,' I replied. I was sure I looked like a beacon with my flaming cheeks. I ran a hand through my hair. 'Look, Daphne, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you.'

She laughed and sat up beside me. 'Don't worry about that, Harry. I'm just returning the favour. After all, I fell asleep on you twice!'

Still feeling extremely embarrassed, I put my arms around her and hugged her to me. 'Thank you, Daphne, for being there and listening.'

'That's what friends are for,' she replied and stood up and walked into the bathroom.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but somehow my relationship with her had changed since yesterday. I'd taken her in out of a sense of obligation and pity to a former classmate. Becoming fast friends with her was not on my agenda, and yet we did. I took care of her, because she had no one else in her life and obviously needed someone to be there for her. Hermione probably would blame it on my saving people thing. I didn't care, it had been the right thing to do.

Yesterday's events, however, had turned the tables. She'd saved my life, and then she'd been there to listen and to comfort me when I needed it. Not once through my story she'd judged me. That was a new experience for me. Ron had never been one to turn to. Seeing me bawl like an infant would have made him extremely uncomfortable. Hermione was definitely better and always willing to listen, but she'd never been able to respect my boundaries and made me more than once feel like a child in front of a teacher. Ginny – Ginny hadn't even come that far. She'd chickened out the first time I'd needed her.

I shook my head. What were the odds that Daphne Greengrass, of all people, would become the only one I felt comfortable talking to about the demons that haunted me? She listened, she asked questions, but she never _prodded_ when she sensed that I didn't want to talk.

Daphne came out of the bathroom, and I got ready for the day.

The "Princess Isabella" was waiting in the roadstead for permission to enter the Gatun Locks, the beginning of our passage through the Panama Canal. I'd learned about this masterpiece of engineering in primary school and couldn't barely contain my excitement at the prospect to see it with my own eyes. So, I walked out onto the veranda as soon as I was ready for the day. The captain just announced over the loudspeaker system that the pilot who'd guide us through the canal had arrived on board. Minutes later, the "Princess Isabella" started to move again.

'Let's have breakfast here,' Daphne suggested with an amused smile. I didn't contradict. The veranda of our suite gave us a prime view we'd hardly find anywhere else on board.

We reached the Gatun Locks when we were having breakfast. Daphne snorted when I picked up my cup of tea and a buttered toast and went out on the veranda. However, she followed only seconds later, with her own cup of tea and toast in her hands.

Watching how the "Princess Isabella" was manoeuvred into the lock by locomotives was fascinating. We had to pass three chambers to be lifted up to the level of Lake Gatun. The ship traffic on that artificial lake reminded me somehow of the London rush hour. The suite came with a pair of binoculars, another of the many extras. Daphne and I took turns and scanned the jungle that lined the lake down to the shores for signs of wildlife. Daphne saw a family of monkeys, but they'd already disappeared behind the trees before she could give the binoculars back to me. It was I who saw the big alligator on the log of a dead tree in the water. The beast sat there, it's jaw open and showing off impressive rows of sharp teeth.

'Wow!' I exclaimed and handed the binocular to Daphne.

' Where is it? I can't find it,' she complained, holding the binoculars to her eyes.

I stepped behind her and reached with both hands around her shoulders and took the binoculars to guide her, and she leaned back into me.

'You make a very comfortable back-rest,' she giggled. 'Ah, there, go it! Thanks, Harry!'

'You're welcome,' I replied.

She handed the binoculars back to me, but stayed leaned against me. We kept trading the binoculars back and forth until it was time for lunch. After lunch, Daphne made herself comfortable on the sun island with her V.I.P.s – Very Important Papers, as I'd dubbed them – while I kept watching the passage. Every now and than she'd look up when I pointed out interesting sights to her, but I could tell by the way her eyes darted back to her papers that she was only doing it to humour me.

Finally, the "Princess Isabella" passed the Bridge of the Americas and sailed into the Pacific Ocean, and I left my post at the railing and joined Daphne on the sun island.

She looked at her wristwatch and exclaimed in amazement as she noticed the time. 'I'm going to take a shower,' she announced and gathered her papers. 'Tonight there's going to be a ball, which means formal dress in all restaurants and bars.'

I groaned and buried my face in the cushions of the sun island.

HP – DG

After that we had two lazy days at sea. Well, the first day wasn't that lazy for me. I'd neglected my financial advisors two days in a row and they were not happy with me. I spend the whole next morning making up to them by working diligently through their letters and answering them.

I'd also had a two days reprieve from the dance classes. Actually, I thought I'd put the torture behind me, since I now also knew how to dance the tango.

Alas, my hopes were smashed when Daphne dragged me off to the dance club after lunch once again.

'You still need to learn Latin dances,' she told me with a grin that was much too broad for my taste. In moments like this she couldn't deny that she was a Slytherin to the core. They all just loved to torment me.

'I promise you, Harry, this is much more fun as learning to waltz.'

As usual, she was right. Learning the cha-cha and the jive was much more fun than learning the slow waltz. For the first time I got an inkling why people thought dancing was fun.

My feet had a chance to recuperate the day after when we reached Huatulco. With our adventure in Cartagena fresh on our minds, neither Daphne nor I felt especially adventurous, so we took a catamaran cruise along the coast to the less frequented bays and spent the day swimming and lazing in the sun.

HP - DG

The next two days we again spent at sea. Daphne holed up with her papers on the sun island after our morning swim and breakfast. Mindful of the mood of my financial advisors, I took care to answer their mail before I joined her. I'd always been told that Goblins were mean little buggers, but my Muggle advisors certainly could give them a run for their money.

Free of any obligations for the rest of the day – oddly enough I didn't count the upcoming dance lesson as that – I joined Daphne on the sun island.

'Care to tell me what's got you so occupied during the last days?' I asked.

'Huh?' She startled. Obviously she'd been that immersed in her work that she hadn't noticed me settling down beside her, and I had to repeat my question.

'Oh, that,' she answered, and then smiled. 'You gave me the idea to a research project, Harry. I'm almost done and will definitely talk to you about it when I'm there. Now leave me alone, I've got work to do.' She made a shooing motion with her hand, while she gave me an impish grin.

Whatever it was she was working on, she wasn't going to tell me yet. Hermione had taught me better than to disturb a witch who was working on a project, so I took my leave, but not without gripping theatrically at my heart with my right hand and saying, 'You hurt me, Daphne.'

She laughed at that. 'Go for a workout at the gym or watch sports in the bar, Harry, or whatever males find interesting. I'll meet you at the buffet restaurant for lunch, all right?'

I grumbled, but gave in. While I walked down the hallway to the elevators, I felt somehow abandoned. For almost three weeks we'd spent every minute of the day together, and I'd not only got used to her company, but suddenly realised that I enjoyed it immensely and felt not right when she wasn't with me.

HP – DG


	3. From San Francisco to Sydney

‚If you're going to San Francisco, Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair' I sang, while I stood on the veranda of our suite and watched how the "Princess Isabella" made her way into the Bay of San Francisco.

'You're a terrible singer,' beside me Daphne remarked. 'You ought to come with a Silencing Charm, like a Fwooper! And you'd look simply hilarious with flowers in your hair.'

'Hey, I resent that,' I pouted, but nevertheless had to join her laughter.

It was a cold, yet sunny morning in late January. We've been told that we were lucky, because obviously fog in the morning was quite a common occurrence in San Francisco, which was also called Fog City by the natives. Thanking the weather gods, we enjoyed the view on the skyline.

Immediately after the "Princess Isabella" had dropped anchor, we entered a bus which took us sightseeing. Our first stop was at the Golden Gate Bridge. I believe, you can't say you've been to San Francisco if you don't get your picture taken with the famous bridge in the background. Daphne and I took turns taking photos of each other, and then Alvirah offered to take a picture of Daphne and I.

'Not so stiff, Harry! Put an arm around Daphne!' she commanded.

Daphne and I grinned at each other, and I obliged. Ever since the first day we'd met her, Alvirah had been on a crusade to get us together. With no luck so far, of course. We both weren't interested in starting a relationship. Daphne was still in an emotionally fragile state after the losses she'd suffered. Though she hid it well, I could tell by the smudges around her eyes if she'd cried herself to sleep at night.

From the Golden Gate Bridge we were taken to Powell Street, where we entered one of the famous Cable Cars. Climbing the steep hill toward California Street in the historic cars was fun. We had a fantastic view over the bay and were adequately impressed when we passed Lombard Street, the "World's Crookedest Street". However, Daphne didn't enjoy the ride as much as I did.

'Muggles are just plain crazy,' she whispered, clinging to my arm for dear life. 'That's like going straight upward with a Firebolt!'

It was by no means like that, and I laughed. 'I'll take you on a ride when we're back home,' I whispered back. 'Then you'll find out that this is actually quite harmless.'

She looked at me and visibly shuddered. 'No, thank you, I've seen your crazy stunts at school!'

That made me laugh again.

The Cable Car finally dropped us off near Fisherman's Wharf, and our tour guide ushered us onto a boat that headed to Alcatraz, the infamous prison island in the bay.

Visiting the prison buildings was an oppressing experience that had the hairs on my back stand up. There was definitely black magic ingrained into the buildings. I could almost hear the screams of the prisoners, the rattling of the keys of the guards and the bangs of the shutting prison doors.

Daphne touched my hand. 'Harry, look!' she whispered.

Behind the bars of a prison cell stood a ghost clad in prison gear, grabbing the bars with both hands and silently screaming. Another ghost glided up to him, this one obviously a prison guard, and silently shouted back. The ghost of the prisoner retreated back into the cell, and the ghost of the guard vanished.

We shared a look. 'That was impressive,' I whispered, covered by the voice of our guide who told the rest of group about the attempted break-outs. 'Though I like the Hogwarts ghosts better.'

'Me too!' Daphne replied. 'These two were scary!'

We were both glad when we were back on the boat and left the island behind.

The guided tour ended with the visit of Azkaban, and Daphne and I left the group to explore Pier 39. It was kind of a tourist trap, but we had fun browsing the various shops and tried clam chowder in sourdough bowls at one of the many eateries. Of course, we didn't miss out visiting the famous sea lions.

We were already on our way back to the ship when Daphne suddenly dragged me into a store that sold Western clothes.

'I always wanted a pair of original cowboy boots!' she exclaimed.

We were the only customers, and I resigned to a long time of waiting and sat down in a chair, while Daphne was approaching a female clerk for help. The clerk had her back to us and was putting away shirts. As she heard Daphne's steps behind her, she turned around. She had short and curly brown hair and large hazel eyes that widened in shock as she saw Daphne.

'Daphne? Is it really you?' she asked.

Daphne startled. 'Tracey? What are you doing here? No one could tell me where you were after you'd left Baltimore! What about your parents and your brother? Where are they?'

'They are all here as well. We live in a small flat on Ellis Street.'

The two women stepped towards each other and hugged, though it looked rather stiff to me.

Daphne turned around and motioned to me to come to her.

'Tracey, let me introduce my travel companion, Harry Potter,' she said as I stepped beside her. 'Harry, this is Tracey Davis. We shared a bedroom in the Slytherin dorms.'

Davis' eyes grew wide as she saw me. 'Potter? I almost wouldn't have recognised you. Where are your baggy rags? Had Daphne sense enough to buy you decent clothes? And had you finally sense enough to tell the Ministry and the "Prophet" to shove it and ran away from your alleged destiny?'

Ah yes, the Slytherin charm in full force. However, this wasn't school and I wasn't the awkward sixteen-year-old she remembered anymore. I was about to answer her barrage of questions, when Daphne stepped in.

'Tracey, how could you? That was incredible rude!' Her cheeks were pink and her eyes shot blue daggers.

I put a hand on her arm. 'It's all right, Daphne.'

She harrumphed, but relented, and I turned to Davis. 'To answer your questions: in the dustbin, I can buy clothes on my own, thank you very much, and I'm right now on vacation after I've told Voldemort to piss off.'

As I'd expected, she squealed like a piglet as I mentioned the name.

'Really, Tracey, get a grip!' Daphne smirked.

We waited while Davis did a poor imitation of a fish on dry land. 'Does that mean ... does that mean the Dark Lord is – gone?' she stuttered.

I frowned. In my experience only his sympathisers ever called him the Dark Lord. Everyone else went with Voldemort or You-Know-Who, depending on the size of their balls.

'As dead as a doornail,' I confirmed.

She gasped. 'How? Who?'

Not bad for a Slytherin, given how they always prided themselves for their eloquence.

'For the how, a simple Disarming Charm did the trick, though it was technically his own Killing Curse, and for the who, that happened to be me.'

That seemed to rob her completely of the ability of speech. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Daphne linked arms with me. 'I think you broke her, Harry.'

The doorbell rang and new customers entered the store. That shook Davis out of her frozen state. She sent a charming smile to the new customers. 'I'll be with you in a jiffy.' Then she whispered to Daphne and I, 'How long do you stay in San Francisco?'

'We'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon,' Daphne replied.

'Will you come to our place tonight at 8 p.m.? My parents would love to see you. You of course, too, Potter. I'm sure they'd like to hear first hand about your – exploits.' The sneer she gave me was thoroughly spoilt by her apparent uneasiness.

Daphne and I communicated silently. I could see in Daphne's eyes that she wanted to visit with her former room mate, so I nodded imperceptibly.

'All right, we'll be there,' she said to Davis.

A sincere smile appeared on Davis face that made her look really nice. 'Good!' She turned to the counter and wrote something on a small sheet of paper. 'You'd best take a cab from your hotel,' she said and handed the paper to Daphne, who looked at it and then put it into her pocket. 'See you then, Tracey!'

Davis nodded her agreement and then turned away from us to meet the new customers, while Daphne guided me out of the shop. We slowly ambled towards the entrance of Pier 39.

'Didn't you want to buy cowboy boots?' I asked her.

Daphne shook her head. 'No, I'm not in the mood for shopping anymore. Meeting Tracey today was like seeing a ghost. It brought back some unpleasant memories of my Hogwarts years.'

She stayed quiet after that, obviously lost in memories, but didn't let my arm go until we were back in our suite. There she sat down in her usual place on the sofa.

I sat down beside her and waited for her to come out of her pensive mood. However, that didn't seem to happen any time soon, so I finally said, 'Daphne!'

She startled and then looked at me.

I ran a nervous hand through my hair, not knowing how I should phrase my next question in order not to offend her friend. 'Uhm – by the way Davis talked about Voldemort, do you think tonight's invitation will be a trap?'

To my relief, Daphne didn't take immediate offence, but considered my question. 'I don't think so,' she finally answered. 'Her father is the son of a Halfblood and a Muggleborn wizard, while her mother is the last member of a side line of my family. She's my third cousin, once removed, while Tracey and I are fourth cousins. The Davis don't belong to the Ancient Families. They are what the Ministry considers as New Purebloods, because they all descend from a magical mother and a magical father. In Pureblood circles, however, they are still considered as Halfbloods. According to the more liberal intended Purebloods, you have to descend from four consecutive generations of magical people to be considered a Pureblood. The hardliners like the Malfoys or the Notts even demand seven consecutive generations of solely magical ancestors.'

She paused and put a strand of her hair behind her ear with her fingers. 'The Davis are a middle class family and not very wealthy. Tracey's parents don't care about Pureblood supremacy, I'm sure. Tracey, however, always wanted to belong to the wealthy Pureblood circles from the day on we entered Hogwarts. She kept her Halfblood descent a secret. I can't blame her on that; Halfbloods were treated like dirt in Slytherin. She always _talked_ as if she was supporting Voldemort's views on Muggleborns and Halfbloods, because she wanted to suck up to the Purebloods in our house, especially to the male ones, if you get my drift. But I can't see her to act on these beliefs.'

'All right, she's your friend, so I trust you to know her,' I said.

Daphne winced. 'I won't call her my friend. We are cousins and got along well enough as room mates, but we were never close. She used the relations to me as a ticket to the Pureblood circles. I used her to watch my back. You can say we had a silent agreement that was of mutual benefit.'

'To watch your back? Did you really have to be on guard against your house mates?'

'Oh yeah!' she nodded with a grim smile. 'You have to bear in mind that most Pureblood males consider their wives and daughters as an article of merchandise. They are sold off to the highest bidder for political or financial gain, and that's not always in marriage. Because of that, almost every Slytherin male thought he was entitled to take advantage of any girl that got his fancy. There were also those who thought I ought to be taught a lesson because I did not always behave as is expected of a Pureblood girl. I've fought off sexual harassment since I was twelve.'

'I'm sorry, Daphne. I had no idea it was like that in Slytherin.' I balled my fists. Neither Dumbledore nor Snape had ever reigned in the Slytherins, thus tolerating their open bullying of other houses, especially Gryffindor. I'd had no idea that the bullying continued within their own house. They always had presented an united front.

'You look like murder, Harry,' Daphne observed. 'There's no need for that, really. I survived. There's a reason why I'm called the "Ice Queen", you know.' She gave me a mischievous grin. 'I might have failed my Defence OWLs, but I'm not completely defenceless.'

I felt how the tension left my body and I returned her smile. 'Good for you, though I'm afraid to ask what you did to them.'

Her grin became feral. 'I won't tell you, anyway, Harry. A girl has to keep her secrets.'

HP – DG

We had an early dinner at a restaurant on the Embarcadero. From there we took a cab to Ellis Street.

Daphne gave me a worried glance and took my hand as we got out of the cab in front of the building where the Davis lived. Though we were not that far from Union Square and the main part of the city, this neighbourhood had a distinct unsavoury feeling to it. The streets seemed to be cluttered with more litter than in the tourist areas. Also, the people that walked on the streets weren't that well dressed. Quite a lot looked downright shady and reminded me of Mundungus Fletcher, Merlin kick his sorry arse. The house where the Davis lived in had a liquor store on the first floor. The stores to the left and right were empty and boarded up.

We rang the doorbell and waited until the door opened. Inside, it didn't get better. The stairway could have used a good cleaning. A faint whiff of urine hung in the air, and Daphne gagged.

The Davis lived on the fourth floor. A woman with short, ash blonde hair opened the door. She had a pleasant face that looked as if she laughed often, and friendly grey eyes, which lit up as she saw Daphne.

'Daphne!' she cried and pulled her in her arms.

'Cousin Melissa, I'm so happy to see you!' Daphne said.

Melissa Davis hugged her again. Then she threw a questioning glance at me.

'Oh, excuse me, Cousin Melissa. This is Harry Potter, my travel companion.'

Melissa Davis' eyes went wide, and like most people, her eyes searched for my scar when we shook hands. 'Mr Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Likewise, Mrs Davis. But please, call me Harry.'

'Then you must call me Melissa,' she replied. She took our coats and ushered us in a small living room.

Davis sat on the sofa, reading a magazine. A middle aged man with greying brown curls and a boy who looked like a much younger and male version of Melissa, played wizard chess at the small dining table that occupied one side of the room.

At the sight of Daphne, the young boy of maybe eleven years sprang up, overthrowing the chessboard. The tiny pieces screamed bloody murder, but he paid no heed. He ran to Daphne and threw himself in her arms.

She caught him and whirled him around, and then gave him a rib-cracking hug. 'Matt, I swear, you've grown ten inches since I last saw you!'

'Let me go, Daphne! I can't breathe!' he protested.

Daphne laughed and let him out of her arms, but ruffled his hair a last time before she stepped back.

'Hey!' he protested, but still laughed.

The middle aged man, who had to be Davis father, had in the meantime left the table and come to us. Now it was his turn to greet Daphne, and he did it just as warmly as his wife and his son. He pulled her in his arms. 'Daphne, it's so good to see you again!'

Daphne returned his hug. 'Cousin Matthew!'

Melissa stepped beside us. 'Matthew, this is Harry Potter, Daphne's travel companion. Harry, this is my husband Matthew Davis.'

'Mr Potter!'

'Harry,' I corrected.

'Call me Matthew, please,' he replied and we shook hands.

Melissa then introduced her son Matthew junior, or Matt, as he was called by everyone.

The eyes of the boy grew wide and a look of admiration appeared in his face. ' _The_ Harry Potter?'

I snorted. It was impossible to become exasperated in the face of his juvenile hero worship. 'The one and only,' I quipped.

'Wow!' He sounded awed. Then he turned to Daphne. 'How did you land him, cousin?'

'Matt!' Daphne, Melissa and Davis shouted unison.

He grinned at me, unimpressed, and I winked.

'I'm sure you know my daughter Tracey, Harry,' Melissa tried to distract from Daphne.

Daphne's cheeks had become pink with mortification, while she glared daggers at her little cousin, who smirked in return.

I played along. 'Yes, of course. We've been together in Potions since first year and in Magical Creations since third year.' Since she made no move to shake my hand, I gave her a polite nod. 'Davis!'

'Potter!' she replied in kind.

'Huh, why so formal?' Melissa asked, while she motioned us to sit down.

'Old habits die hard,' I replied, while I sat down next to Daphne on the sofa.

Davis took a seat at her other side. 'Blame it on the house rivalry. Gryffindors and Slytherins never get along. Though, there seems to be the exception to the rule.' She gave Daphne and I a curious side glance.

Melissa frowned at her daughter and offered refreshments. Then she sat down in an armchair opposite of her husband. Matt simply sat down on the carpet and beamed at us.

'How are your parents, Daphne?' Melissa began in an ill-fated attempt of small talk.

Daphne froze. Her face became an expressionless mask. She grasped at my hand and looked at me, her eyes betraying her pain.

Her strange reaction made the Davis' realise that something was amiss.

'Daphne?' Melissa asked. Her voice sounded alarmed.

I pressed Daphne's hand. 'You need to tell them,' I said quietly, and she nodded.

She took a deep breath and looked at her cousin. 'Dad was killed last May when Death Eaters came to Grenian House. They destroyed the house and tortured Mum into oblivion with the Torture Curse. I found out after the Battle of Hogwarts. Upon the advice of the healers of St. Mungos I went to the USA with Mum for a new treatment. Her condition forbade magical means of travel or travel by a Muggle plane, so I decided to travel on a Muggle cruise ship to New York. On her first night on board Mum had an enormous bout of accidental magic that killed her immediately.'

The Davis gasped. 'Oh Daphne, I'm so sorry!' Melissa cried, while Davis put an arm around Daphne's shoulder. She had tears in her eyes. So she wasn't as callous as she appeared to be on first sight.

'Is there anything we can do to help you?' Matthew asked. He also looked saddened.

Daphne gave him a smile. Her eyes were sad, but dry, I noticed.

'Thank you, Cousin Matthew. Dad was killed nine months ago. I still miss him terribly, but I've come to grips with his death. Mum died not quite four weeks ago. It's still very fresh, but I'm learning to deal with it. Harry was an immense help. I don't know what I'd have done without him.' She smiled at me and gave my hand an affectionate squeeze.

'I see,' Matthew replied. He assessed me with a rather cold look. 'I didn't know there were relations of any kind between the House of Greengrass and the House of Potter.'

Something in his voice made my hackles stand up, and I stiffened. Daphne pressed my hand lightly. Meanwhile, I knew her well enough to understand the warning, so I left the talking to her.

'There weren't any,' she replied. 'Harry just happened to have booked the adjoining suite. I even didn't know that he was also on board. Mum's bout of accidental magic knocked me unconscious. When Harry realised what had happened, he rushed to our suite to help. I was in a state of shock and not of much use for a couple of days. Harry dealt with the Muggle authorities and the Ministry of Magic, and he also offered me to stay in the living room of his suite, so I didn't have to stay alone in the place where Mum died. We became friends during the days until we reached New York. Harry was by my side when I buried Mum next to her parents in Salem.' Her voice faltered and she had to wipe away a tear.

I rubbed her back and she smiled at me in return.

'I had no place to go to. Last thing I heard of you was that you'd left Baltimore and no one at the Ministry could tell me where you'd gone to after that. When Harry offered me to stay with him for the rest of his planned world cruise and tutor him in Wizard culture, I accepted.'

Davis let out a snort. 'Finally go it, Potter? It's a shame how little you always seemed to know about your heritage. The friends you chose certainly weren't the role models you needed in that department.'

'Tracey!' Melissa hissed.

I raised a hand to placate her. 'You're right, Davis. After the war I found out that quite a lot of things were not as I was made to believe. I had to take on a lot of responsibilities I'd never thought of befalling me. I've still got to learn a lot, and I have to learn it quick. I'm lucky that Daphne agreed to help me with that.'

Davis looked as if she was about to deliver another scathing remark, but was interrupted by her mother.

'Actually, you went about that in a very traditional manner, Harry. Until today it's common for male offspring of Pureblood families to take the _Grand_ _Tour_ which leads them through the European capitals and the most important magical places. Usually, they have a male tutor with them who teaches them about social customs and advanced magic before they return home and start a mastery or, in case of the heir presumptive, are taught how to manage the family estate. However, it's certainly unusual that you travel on a Muggle cruise ship and have a female tutor travelling with you.'

Her husband looked as if he wholeheartedly agreed to the latter statement, and Davis looked as if she'd smelled something unpleasant. We were saved by Matt.

'I think it's cool!' he exclaimed.

Matthew laughed and ruffled his hair. 'And what would you know about that, mister?' Then he turned to Daphne. Anything he obviously wanted to add to that topic died on his lips as he noticed the glare she gave him.

For the second time since I'd met her on the "Princess Isabella", Daphne adopted her Pureblood Head of House persona. Her face was polite, yet impassive, and the message her eyes sent was unmistakeable. ' _You have no right to tell me what to do!'_ I swear her magic flared, emphasizing her point.

It was impressive. She had to teach me that. It certainly would come in handy the next time I had to deal with Mrs Weasley and her meddling.

Matthew faltered under her glare. In an obvious attempt to change the topic, he asked, 'Harry, when Tracey came home tonight she said you claimed to have killed You-Know-Who. Is that true? You see, I brought my family to Baltimore right after he was spotted in the Ministry for Magic, because I knew we'd be killed for besmirching the bloodline of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood houses with my Muggle blood. I was an Unspeakable and managed to secure a job with a magical research company in Baltimore. However, we had to flee soon after, because Death Eaters turned up to recruit Americans, and we didn't feel safe anymore. We left the magical world and went to San Francisco. Money has been tight since then, that's why we have to live in this part of town. We had no contact to the magical world, so I have to ask you, is it true? Is it really over? And most important, is it safe to return to England?'

I'd known we'd come to this point ever since Davis asked us that afternoon to visit with her family. So, I was prepared to answer Matthew's questions.

'Yes, Voldemort is dead,' I began, but was interrupted by their cries of fear. Oddly enough, only Matt stayed calm.

'Get a grip!' he admonished his family. 'It's only a name!'

I smiled at him, and he grinned back. The more I saw of the little rascal, the more I liked him.

'Matt's right,' I affirmed. 'His real name was Tom Riddle, so call him that if you can't stomach Voldemort.' They flinched again, but I ignored that and went on with my story. 'He'd anchored his soul to this world by using dark magic and a couple of artefacts. Because of that, he couldn't really die. As soon as we'd destroyed all of the artefacts, he was mortal like any of us.'

'Who finished him off?' Matthew asked.

'Technically, he himself,' I replied. 'His own Killing Curse backfired onto him.'

Daphne didn't want to have any of that. 'It was Harry, of course,' she interrupted before any of the Davis' could ask another question. 'You should have seen them! He and Voldemort circled around each other, and Harry told him that all of his artefacts were gone and that he was mortal. Of course, Voldemort didn't believe him. He got angry and cast the Killing Curse at him. Harry was ever so calm and cast the Disarming Spell at the same moment. Voldemort's own wand turned against him, and his own Killing Curse backfired on him. The next moment he keeled over and was dead, just like that.' She snapped her fingers.

Matthew gave me a long look. 'I think there's much more to this story than you care to tell us, Harry. But I guess it's strictly confidential information, isn't it?'

I nodded to that. As a former Unspeakable Matthew probably would have an idea how horrible the things were Voldemort had done to secure his immortality.

'So, you're the hero of the magical world once again, Potter, because you single-handedly killed the Dark Lord? Do you expect us to get on our knees and hail our saviour?' Davis sneered.

'Tracey!' her family and Daphne shouted.

However, she was not impressed by that. Her eyes dared me to turn into the moron I'd been during my Hogwarts days whenever Malfoy baited me.

I wasn't intended to oblige her. 'Of course not, Davis. If you'd used your brain, you'd have realised that no one in their right mind could take on a wizard as knowledgeable and powerful as Voldemort on their own,' I replied in kind, and was rewarded with a gleeful snigger from Matt. I winked at him and went on. 'I had a lot of help from many different people. Dumbledore found out what he'd done to anchor himself to this world and which artefacts he'd used. He also destroyed one of the artefacts. Hermione and Ron went on the run with me after our sixth year and helped me find the artefacts that were not yet destroyed. Hermione, Ron and Neville Longbottom each destroyed one of the artefacts. Not to mention the part my mother and Voldemort himself played in making me the only one who could kill him in the end. I also won't forget Severus Snape, who saved my life more than once and who spied on Voldemort and gave me the crucial information I needed to finish him off.'

That silenced her.

'Shows again that everyone has an Achilles' heel, even V-Voldemort,' Matthew remarked. He looked sick. 'I think I have an idea what he did to endure his immortality, Harry. What worries me is that you mentioned – artefacts - as in more than one.'

The way he chose his words told me that Matthew knew exactly what I'd talked about.

'Can you tell me how many there were?' he asked.

The number had never been a secret. Just the contrary, Kingsley had used it as a method to drive home how dangerous the means were Tom had used to secure his immortality, considering that he was more snake than human in the end.

'There were six of them, seven, if you also count the one he made involuntarily as he came to kill me when I was an infant,' I replied.

'SIX?!' Matthew yelled. 'That's madness! But wait, you said there was also an unintentional one ... and he's dead...' He stared at me. 'Merlin, I think I'm going to be sick!' He bolted out of the room.

His family looked after him, not understanding what had him that agitated.

Daphne had tears in her eyes. 'He knows, doesn't he?' she whispered at me.

'It seems so,' I whispered back. 'He's an Unspeakable, after all, so I wouldn't be surprised if he knows.' I nudged her gently with my shoulder. 'Hey, it's over. There's no need anymore to cry about it!'

She snorted at that, though it sounded rather watery. We were interrupted by Melissa, who'd recovered enough from her husband's strange behaviour to ask Daphne a question.

'Daphne, when you described how Harry killed V-Vol ... You-Know-Who, it sounded as if you've been there?'

'Yes, I was,' Daphne affirmed. 'It happened on May the second in the Great Hall of Hogwarts at sunrise. Harry and his friends had come the night before. Harry said that Voldemort was going to come. The castle was getting ready for a fight. McGonagall evacuated the younger students and everyone who didn't wish to fight. All Slytherins opted to leave the castle. Actually, I didn't want to. I wanted to see the monster gone, but ...'

'But as a good Slytherin you weighed your options and decided to play along with your house and return in secret, so that you'd still be able to join the winning side when everything was over,' I interrupted her.

'Why, yes,' she admitted, and actually sounded embarrassed.

I laughed. 'No need to be embarrassed, Daphne. Eventually I learn to appreciate the Slytherin way of thinking.'

She joined my laughter, while Davis gave me a look as if I'd grown another head.

Daphne snorted as she continued, 'Obviously I was not the only one who thought that way, because Nott and Zabini also returned and joined the fight.'

'What, Theo fought Voldemort?' Davis exclaimed.

'Yeah, I also was surprised,' Daphne agreed.

Davis leaned back in her seat. She looked as if Daphne had just given her a lot to think about.

Daphne regarded her with a knowing smile.

'What ...' Matt began, but he was interrupted by his father, who returned to the living room, carrying a tablet with a bottle of whisky and five glasses in his hands.

'I think we need something stronger as coke after what Harry told us,' he announced while he poured the whisky.

Daphne and I nodded to that, while the expressions of his wife, daughter and son betrayed that they didn't know what he was talking about.

'I'll explain later,' he said to his wife and raised his glass. 'To freedom!'

'Freedom!' we echoed and also raised our glasses. Even Davis looked as if she meant it.

We downed the whisky.

'So, Harry, is it safe to return to England?' Matthew asked as he put his glass on the table.

'That depends on if the Death Eaters still have an old score to settle with you,' I replied. 'Quite a lot of them escaped after the battle and are still on the run. There are also numerous snatchers still not counted for, not to mention the many ordinary wizards and witches who were supporters, but haven't taken the Dark Mark or haven't been found out. Each and everyone of them poses a threat. That's the reason why I've been living under a Fidelius Charm ever since the end of the war, and so have my friends. I hardly ever venture into the Wizarding World, but spend most of my time in the Muggle world, and even there I'm constantly on my guard.'

Matthew looked taken aback. Apparently he hadn't thought of the repercussions of the war. 'What about the Ministry,' he asked. 'Aren't they doing anything? I suppose we have a new Minister for Magic, don't we?'

I nodded. 'Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's a good man, but he can do only so much without money and an administration and a Wizengamot that still rely heavily on their old inside relationships.'

'The Auror?' Matthew asked with a thoughtful nod. 'I've heard about him. He's got the reputation not to be afraid to do what needs to be done. After what you said about Fudge and Scrimgeour, he seems to be just the man we need to get out of the chaos V-Voldemort left in his wake.'

'That's true,' Daphne added her two Knuts. 'And I hope that Harry and I will be able to help him there.'

That earned her a round of raised brows from Melissa, Matthew and especially Davis. However, she wasn't fazed at all and just smiled at them sweetly.

'Well, the Death Eaters never focussed on us,' Matthew mused. ' We left England as a precaution, because sooner or later they'd have come after us. That means returning home should be safe enough. What do you think, dear?' he asked his wife.

Melissa nodded. 'I agree.' She turned to Daphne and I. 'When will you be back in England?'

'The "Princess Isabella" arrives at Southampton on May, first,' Daphne replied.

'Then we ought to be back no later than by the beginning of April,' Melissa told her husband decidedly.

Davis smirked at Daphne, and Daphne's cheeks turned slightly pink. Her eyes gleamed dangerously and she raised her chin, but didn't say anything.

Again, Matt saved the awkward moment. 'Brilliant! I'll be attending Hogwarts in September!' He pumped his fist into the air and added a jig for good measure.

Melissa looked at her son, a mix of motherly pride and comical despair on her face. 'Poor old Hogwarts will not know what had hit her,' she smiled. 'Somehow I doubt Matt will be a Ravenclaw like his father or a Slytherin, like I.'

'No, that boy surely has Gryffindor written all over him,' I agreed, watching the boy who was still dancing through the living room.

'May Merlin help us all,' Davis groaned, and Daphne and I couldn't help sharing a gleeful grin.

HP – DG

'Argh, I can't believe the nerve of her!' Daphne ranted as soon as we were back in our suite.

We had left the Davis' soon after our talk about their return to England. They and Daphne promised to keep in touch until then by the use of my Gringotts Banishing Box. I'd Apparated us to the backyard of the restaurant where we had dinner before we met the Davis, not wanting to walk through that unsavoury part of town in search of a cab, since the Davis didn't have a telephone.

I leaned against the doorjamb and watched Daphne's tantrum. That was a new side of her. Normally, she kept her countenance, even when she was angry. She might hiss and and growl and glare, but she never ranted.

'Care to tell me what this is about?' I asked.

She gave me a sharp look. 'Harry James Potter, don't act all clueless Gryffinfor on me! I know that you understood exactly what my relatives implied as they told you how unusual your travel arrangements are and why they think it necessary to be back in England before I come home!'

I gave her a rueful grin while I went to the bar and took out the bottle of whisky. 'Unfortunately, I do,' I admitted and showed her the bottle.

She nodded. 'Make it a big one,' she said, obviously still miffed.

I poured the liquor into two glasses and then stepped beside Daphne.

She stood in front of the window and looked at the nightly silhouette of San Francisco. It was a beautiful sight, with all the lights, but the deep frown that marred her face showed that she was still angry about the behaviour of her relatives.

Handing the glass to her, I said, 'They are only looking out for you, Daphne. You can't blame them for that. Our travel arrangements surely must seem scandalous to traditional wizards. I should have thought of that before and never have asked you to stay with me.'

She whirled around. 'Are you telling me that I should leave?'

I shook my head. 'No, I leave that decision up to you. You're a grown up woman and head of your house. You deserve to make your own decisions.' In fact, I'd been terrified she'd tell me that she couldn't continue travelling with me ever since we'd left the Davis', but of course I couldn't hold her back if staying with me meant endangering her reputation within her own social circle.

Her face lit up while I talked and the deep frown vanished. She leaned into me and kissed my cheek.

'Thank you, Harry, I'd hoped that you'd say that.' Then she downed the whisky with one gulp. 'I'll stay,' she announced, handing me the glass for a refill. 'To hell with all the stuck-up Purebloods who think a girl ought to be chaperoned until she marries so that she's pure on her wedding day and ought never to be allowed to make her own decisions! I'm definitely not looking for a husband among them, so I don't care what they say about me!'

I didn't even try to hide the broad smile that spread over my face at that.

HP – DG

We left San Francisco the next afternoon without seeing any of the Davis again. I can't say I was unhappy about that. They seemed to be nice enough people, well, except Davis, but I worried about how they might try to influence Daphne against staying with me.

At sea, we immediately resumed our daily routine with sports and fulfilling our obligations to our family holdings in the morning and fun in the afternoon. I'd thought Daphne would let me off the hook once I'd finished the complete course of dance lessons the "Princess Isabella" offered. However, I had no such luck. I'd forgot the afternoon tea.

'That's a good opportunity for you to practice your dancing some more before we go to a ball, Harry,' she reasoned. I won't admit it, but of course she was right – once again. So, with much outward grumbling I allowed her to drag me off to the afternoon tea, but she finally made me admit that it was actually fun.

Each day Daphne would receive a letter from either Melissa or Davis. She didn't tell me what they wrote, and I wouldn't pry, but by her sour mood after reading the letters I could tell that they still weren't over the matter of Daphne and I travelling together.

'Who do they think they are?' it finally broke out of her on our fourth day at sea. She slammed the letter on the table.

I looked up from my own mail. 'Are they still giving you a hard time because you're staying with me?'

'No, that can be covered up easily, they think, so I'll still be able to catch a Pureblood moron after I've returned,' she growled and glared at the letter in front of her. 'This one is about moving in with them as soon as I'm back, because it's improper for a young witch to live of her own. I'll most definitely will not agree to that! I am the Head of House Greengrass. Melissa and Tracey have to be deferential to me, not the other way round.'

'So, it's basically all about Slytherin power play?' I asked.

'It's always all about power play among Slytherins,' Daphne sighed and began to compose a polite yet scathing answer to her cousin.

I returned to my own letter that I also found quite disturbing. I'd forgot about the letter I'd got from Ginny the day after Daphne's mother died and couldn't even remember where I'd put it. Apparently, Ginny thought it necessary to bring herself to my mind, and wrote me another one. That was something I could have done without, I thought while I read her letter for a second time.

 _Dearest Harry,_ it began and I winced at that. I had obtained an excellent memory since I got rid of the part of Tom inside of me, and I as sure as hell already hadn't been her _dearest_ anymore two weeks before I officially broke up with her and left the Burrow.

 _How are you? You're a bad boy for never writing!_

Was I looking like Padfood or what?

 _Mum is ever so worried about you._

I snorted. That I'd believe easily. The first positive side I discovered about my break-up with Ginny was my escape from Molly Weasley's overprotective clutches. She'd been unbearable before we went on the run, but she got even worse after Fred's death.

 _It's weird here at Hogwarts without you. I'm missing you. I keep going back to all of our secret places and thinking of the wonderful time we had._

I put the letter down. She was right there, we'd had a wonderful time during those three weeks after the Quidditch Cup and before Dumbledore's death. While we were on the run, I'd always thought back to that time. It had seemed to be like something out of another life, and the memories of those happy days were the only thing that kept me going. But Ginny had also done a thoroughly job in destroying all the trust I had in her when she turned away from me after I'd told her about my special connection to Tom.

 _Don't you think it's time to quit moping and come back to me, sweetie? I promise I won't give you a hard time about the things you said to me. It was too soon after the battle and you apparently weren't in your right mind then, so I'll forgive you._

She'll forgive me for the things I said? I'd said exactly two sentences to her: _"Look, Ginny, you can't seem to get over the fact that Voldemort made me his unintentional Horcrux. So, let's end it now and try to stay friends, all right?"_ Well, these were probably not the most original lines for a break-up, but surely they weren't mean or hurtful. That is, as long as you didn't consider telling the truth as hurtful. But it got even better.

 _Hermione thinks she can persuade Ron to be your best friend again, but of course you'd first have to apologise to him for the things you did._

They must be delusional, all three of them. Either that or I'd lived in a parallel universe ever since the battle.

The letter continued with a detailed description of the last Quidditch match, many complaints about the workload she had approaching her NEWTs and a lot of gossip about who dated and who broke up, and she concluded her letter with assertions of everlasting love.

I folded the letter and put it in my briefcase.

'Harry? Everything all right with you? You look pale!' Daphne said.

She was right. I felt nauseated after reading Ginny's letter, but I managed to give Daphne a small smile. 'Thanks, I'm good, Daphne. That letter was a trifle vexing.'

Daphne left it at that, though she looked doubtful. 'All right. You know where to find me when you want to talk about it.'

I had to grin about her choice of words. By now, we were comfortable enough with each other to talk about everything that was bothering us. Maybe not straight away, but we'd come to it eventually. So, Daphne knew it was only a matter of time until I'd tell her about Ginny's letter. It was a new and surprising development, but also a very pleasant one. During the last couple of days I'd told her more about my time with the Dursleys and the many times I felt like a cast out at Hogwarts as I'd ever shared with Ron and Hermione in seven years, let alone Ginny. In return, she'd told me quite a lot about her lonely time with no friends in Slytherin. We'd made similar experiences, though at different times of our life, what made us understand how the other one clicked.

During the following two days, however, we put all thoughts of obnoxious family members and ex-girlfriends out of our heads. After four days at sea we'd reached the Hawaiian Islands and were both keen to get off the ship and do some exploring.

When we got the suggestions for tours on Oahu, Daphne and I didn't have to think twice. We both picked a private surf lesson.

'You can't go to Waikiki without at least trying to stand on a board,' Daphne had said, and I wholeheartedly agreed.

We were picked up at the gangway and then drove to Waikiki beach. Standing on a surfboard looked easier than it was. At the beginning, Daphne and I were more in the water than on the board.

'Now I know how a shirt in the washing machine feels,' I sighed as I emerged out of the surf for the umpteenth time.

Daphne laughed at me, and our instructor also showed no mercy. 'Try again,' she adviced. 'You'll get the hang of it – eventually.'

To be honest, neither Daphne nor I got "the hang of it" till the end of our lesson, but we'd both got hooked.

'It's a shame we're already leaving this afternoon,' Daphne said as we sat down in the Shorebird Beach Bar for lunch. 'I wouldn't mind to try this again!'

'Yeah, me too!' I agreed, while I perused the menu. After a morning spent mostly under water, I was famished, so I ordered an Hawaiian Loco Moco. Daphne, mindful of her slim waistline, shook her head at my unhealthy choice and opted for a pineapple and papaya salad with cotton cheese.

While we waited for our orders, we watched the many surfers, who all seemed to be much more skilled than Daphne and I, and bet who'd be the next one in the water. We were interrupted by the waitress who served our lunch.

'We'll have to come back one time and have another lesson,' I said, eying the strange combination of rice, hamburger pattie, fried egg and gravy in front of me.

Daphne startled and gave me a rather strange look. 'I'd like that,' she finally smiled at me.

HP – DG

After another day at Lahaina, Maui, which we spent lazing on the beach, four days at sea followed. By now, I'd learned to appreciate the long, relaxing days at sea. It was just what I needed, considering the rollercoaster of angst and danger I'd had this time in the previous year, not to mention the lack of food and the constant cold.

'A Knut for your thoughts,' Daphne said as she entered the sun island beside me and handed me a cold coke.

'Do you think they're worth that much?' I replied and took the bottle from her.

'That depends,' she grinned and daintily sipped out of her bottle. I really had corrupted her.

'On what?' I probed.

'Whether I'll keep them to myself or will sell them to Rita Skeeter. I'd make a fortune, you know.'

I regarded her with a smile and stated, 'You'd never do that.'

The grin vanished from her face and was replaced with a curious expression. 'What makes you think that? You barely know me!'

That made me snort. 'Daphne, we've lived together for five weeks now and spent almost every minute of the day together. I'd say we know each other pretty well by now. I know you're fiercely loyal to those you care for. You've shown it in the way you took care of your mother, and you've also shown it that day in Cartagena. Do you think I don't know that your first instinctive reaction when those thugs Apparated in front of us was to Apparate yourself back to safety? And yet you stayed, though you were frightened to death, and saved my life.'

She stared at me with suspiciously shining eyes. 'Thank you for your trust, Harry,' she finally said. 'That means a lot to me.'

'You're welcome,' I replied.

We settled into silence. Daphne made herself comfortable beside me and leaned her head against my shoulder, so I put my arm around her back to give her more room. 'Better?'

'Much better,' she replied and skidded closer.

We squinted into the sun and sipped our cokes.

'Care to tell me what you were thinking about?' she finally asked.

'Oh, nothing spectacular. Mostly about how my life was this time last year, you know.'

' I imagine your life is extremely different now,' she remarked.

I chuckled at that. 'You can say that again. This time last year I was still recovering from my fight with Voldemort's snake.'

Daphne shuddered. I'd told her about that horrible Christmas and how Hermione managed to save me last week, as she shook me out of a terrible nightmare of those events.

'We'd reached rock bottom. I think we hardly ever spoke with each other. I was trying to find out which lead to follow, Horcruxes or Hollows. Either way, I had no idea how to go on. And then there was the cold, and the lack of food ...'

'At least I had food,' she said quietly. 'Though, most of the time I was so frightened and nauseated by what I had to witness that I hardly could eat.' She shuddered at the memory. 'I'd never have thought there are people as cruel as the Carrows. For the first time I was happy that I'd failed my Defence OWLs, because that meant they couldn't force me to practice the Torture Curse on my classmates from other houses. But that didn't mean I'd escape them. They had the authority to visit each dorm any time of the day, and they abused it, I can tell you. Both of them had the uncanny ability to enter my bedroom whenever I was changing. Their eyes ... I can still see their greedy eyes in my nightmares. I was used to sexual harassment from my housemates. They were my peers and I could handle them. Against the Carrows, I was helpless. They were professors and had authority over me. I've never felt so dirty and useless in my life.'

I didn't know what to reply to that, so I put my other arm around her and held her close.

HP – DG

We were still in a pensive mood when we went down to the main restaurant for dinner that night, so I suggested to watch a film at the cinema. Today's program had advertised a romantic comedy, "When Harry Met Sally". Just what we needed to get rid of our dark mood, I thought. Comedy sounded good to me, and romantic always went over well with a girl. At least that was what I had been told by Dean Thomas, back in another life when we still were at Hogwarts and had no other worries than homework and the upcoming Quidditch match. I leave Voldemort and Malfoy out of that. They'd been a constant pain in the arse I'd got used to.

I didn't know better. My only excuse is that I never had the opportunity to watch TV or go to the cinema while I lived with the Dursleys, so I knew next to nothing about films you just _had_ to know.

The film was hilarious, but to Daphne and I the theme was rather embarrassing. We diligently avoided to look each other in the eyes on our way back to the suite.

In our suite, Daphne went straight out onto the veranda and leaned against the railing, looking at the moonlit sea.

I got two bottles of beer from the fridge and joined her. I had the vague feeling that we needed to clean the air right now, or we'd be in for a couple of uncomfortable and embarrassing weeks until we were back in Southampton.

'I'm sorry, Daphne,' I said as I handed her the bottle. 'I had no idea what the film was about, or I'd never have suggested it.'

She took the bottle from me and asked, 'Do you think it's true? That men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way?' She blushed at these words, but looked me straight in the eyes.

'I think it's not true,' I replied. 'It certainly never got in the way between Hermione and I.'

Her eyes grew wide at that. 'Not even during all these lonesome months after the Weasel deserted you? Did you not once think of comforting each other?'

'Not once,' I confirmed and took a swig out of my bottle, wishing I'd something stronger right now.

'Can you explain that?' she asked.

I winced. 'You know that I'm not good at explaining stuff like this, Daphne!'

The Slytherin in her showed no sympathy with my plight. 'The more reason to practise, I think,' she remarked.

I sighed, which had her chuckle. I glared at her, but she was not impressed. After another fortifying swig from my bottle, I gave her the best explanation I could think of.

'Hermione and I never had that kind of relationship. There was not once a sparkle or romantic tension. I never thought of her as a girl, you know. She was my mate, like Ron, or maybe like an older sister or cousin, the way she always nagged me about my homework or tried to make sure I ate proper meals. Sleeping with Hermione would have been like sleeping with my sister, so the idea never even entered my mind.'

I needed another swig from my bottle, and Daphne waited patiently until I was ready to continue, though her eyes never left my face.

'Besides that, she's always been Ron's girl, you know? She was heartbroken over him. It would have been mean to take advantage of her emotional state. There are probably men who'd do just that, but I can't. I like to be able to look at myself in the mirror, thank you very much.'

I paused. Then I added with a bitter laugh, 'And of course I still fancied myself to be in love with Ginny back then.'

'Fancied?' she asked quietly.

'Yeah. Whatever I felt for her, it wasn't love. Infatuation, maybe, but certainly not love. I think there's more to love than a couple of heated snogs and a mutual love of Quidditch.' I felt how I blushed at that, but I'd started to bare my soul and somehow couldn't stop. 'When I think back to those times, I see that Ginny and I had nothing in common except Quidditch. We never talked to each other before we got together, and even then we didn't talk much, if you know what I mean.' I blushed even harder. 'I think you need to be friends before you can love someone, and Ginny and I never were friends.'

She'd turned away from me and looked out onto the sea again. 'Thanks for telling me, Harry.' A slight smile curved her lips and I couldn't help but think that she looked decidedly smug. What on earth had I told her to cause that reaction?

We stood side by side in companionable silence and sipped our beer.

All of a sudden, Daphne began to chuckle.

'What's so funny?' I asked.

'Oh, just a line from the film that popped into my mind,' she grinned.

'Which one?' I asked. I should come to regret my curiosity the next second.

'"I'll have what she's having!"' Daphne replied and laughed even harder.

I palmed my face with my hands and groaned.

HP – DG

Our recreation at sea was interrupted once again when we reached Samoa. Daphne and I took a tour around the island, but by now we'd both reached a state of laziness that we just as well could have stayed on board without feeling we'd missed out something.

My "How to act in Pureblood circles" training also advanced nicely. Just as Daphne had prophesied, I'd got used to wear a suit each evening and dress up like a monkey for the formal evenings and did it by now without even thinking about it. I also got used to sitting through six course meals and making polite small talk with complete strangers, especially with the elderly ladies. However, Daphne commented that special skill of mine less flattering.

'If you ever find yourself broke, Harry, you can still make a career as a gigolo. The lady beside you was practically eating out of the palm of your hand!' she grinned when we'd returned to our suite after another gala dinner at the captain's table.

I narrowed my eyes, picked up a pillow from the sofa and threw it at her.

She caught it and threw it back at me with a wicked grin. Before I knew what was going on, we were in the middle of a pillow fight which I won by resorting to dirty tactics. I dodged the pillow she threw at me, and made a bolt for her. Then I tickled her mercilessly until she shrieked with laughter.

'All right, Harry! I surrender! You've won!' she panted, tears of laughter in her eyes.

'And don't you forget it!' I grinned and pulled back.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

I should have known that she wouldn't leave it at that and get her revenge on me. The next day I finally found out about the project Daphne had been working on since the Caribbean. After I'd finished my daily correspondence with my Board of Financial Advisors, she put an impressive stack of papers in front of me.

'These are dossiers about the current members of the Wizengamot, their names, their career, their voting behaviour, their likes and dislikes and so on. You'll have to read them all and best also memorise them, Harry.'

I was rendered speechless and stared from the papers to Daphne and back.

'You did all that?'

She nodded with evident pride on her face. Of course, she had every right to be proud of her work. It was an impressive research project. Hermione couldn't have done it better, I'm sure.

I jumped up and took her face between my hands. Then I gave her a resounding peck on the lips.

'Thank you, Daphne! You' re wonderful!' I exclaimed and turned back to the papers.

'You're welcome,' she said.

I shuffled through the papers. They were all there, sorted by fractions: the Ministry appointed proxies, the Dark Families, the Neutrals and the alarmingly few Light families, the Macmillans, the Diggorys and the Robins'. I looked up at Daphne. 'You've already done some research into who the original owner of each seat is?'

She'd regarded me with a strange little smile on her face and startled when I addressed her. 'Uh – what?'

I repeated my question.

'Ah yes, the original inhabitants of the seats. That wasn't as difficult as I'd thought, though I don't have access to all the sources I need for a complete research right now. I know for example that all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight hold a seat from the time the Wizengamot was founded, because the families are that old. Except the Shacklebolts and the Shafiqs, of course. These families came to England after the founding of the Wizengamot. From what you told me, I was also able to add the Potters, the Peverells and the Princes, oh yes, and the Gaunts and the Bones, too. About the remaining twenty-nine seats I'm not so sure. I'll have to research that when we're back home. I need access to my father's papers. He kept all the records of the Wizengamot in his office. Do you think that Mr Weasley will let me work there?'

I rubbed my neck. The Weasleys and I hadn't parted on the best terms, but Mr Weasley had kept out of it. He'd also always seemed to be a fair-minded man to me, so I doubted he'd give Daphne a hard time just because she was doing some research to help me. Or would he? It probably depended on how much he was influenced by his wife, I mused.

'Sure,' I replied. 'But you'd better not mention your connection to me!'

She snorted at that. 'Are you afraid that the Weaslette's dad will come after you with his wand?'

I raised my eyebrows at that. ' No. Why should he do that?'

'Well, maybe because you've corrupted his lovely maiden daughter?'

'Uh-what?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Gryffindors! Always need everything spelled out in bold letters. Because you've slept with the Weaslette, Harry!'

I felt how I turned beet red. 'I never slept with Ginny!' I defended myself.

That seemed to surprise her. 'You didn't? And there I thought for sure there was more behind your break-up than you've told me, given the harsh reaction of her brothers to you and the way you're avoiding the family since then.'

I still didn't understand what she was getting at, and it must have shown on my face, because she took a deep breath and said, 'All right, Harry, I think it's time for another lection in Pureblood tradition. I'd thought the Weasel had delivered that lesson to you, given that he's supposed to be your best mate, but either he's an even bigger moron than I've thought or it's all part of the plan.'

'Plan? What plan?' I still had no idea what she was talking about.

She sighed and pulled up a chair from the dining table to sit beside me at the desk.

'Harry, you remember that I told you that even in the non traditional Pureblood families the children are raised knowing about the old traditions?'

I nodded at that.

'Good. I've also told you that most Pureblood families think of their daughters as an article of merchandise, right?'

Though I had no idea where she was going with that, I nodded again.

'Because of that young Pureblood girls have to obey to a certain standard of conduct. We are allowed to date – though the Purebloods prefer the term courting – but Merlin forbid that we ever do more with a boy than kiss, if you know what I mean.'

The heat crept into my cheeks, but I nodded again.

'Dishonouring a Pureblood girl, or in blunt words, sleeping with a Pureblood girl before you're firmly entered into a betrothal contract is a serious offence in Pureblood circles. You damage the goods without paying the price.'

That was disgusting, and I opened my mouth to say just that, but she raised her hand and prevented my from that.

'I didn't say that it's right, Harry. In fact, I find that attitude as appalling as you do and am glad that my own father never thought that way. But there's no denying that if a wizard robs a Pureblood witch of her virginity, he's got hell to pay. Firstly, he'll be forced to marry the girl, because she can't be sold off to anyone else anymore. If he refuses, the head of the girl's house can challenge him to a honour duel to the death. The head of house does not necessarily have to fight, he can order any male member of his house to fight in his stead. In case the wizard agrees to marry the girl, and that happens in most cases, he's forced to pay the bride price to the girl's family, and in addition to that also a compensation for the scandal he's caused.'

She regarded me with a grim look. 'I know there have been cases where wealthy Muggleborn wizards have been lured into exactly that trap by younger daughters of Pureblood families. It's a very convenient way for the families to fill their coffers, get fresh blood into their family tree and simultaneously be able to moan the fact that they've been disgraced by an uncouth Muggleborn who doesn't know our ways.'

Her face became soft. 'I'm glad you never slept with the Weaslette, Harry. As you started dating her back in sixth year, many of us were afraid she'd lure you exactly into that trap. You were firmly under the influence of Dumbledore and the Weasleys who'd not teach you about Pureblood traditions, for what reason ever. Your ignorance was a disaster just waiting to happen. I remember that the Pureblood boys of our year discussed who should be the one to warn you. But then Dumbledore was killed and you broke up with the Weaslette, so it didn't come to that anymore.'

'I don't think I'd have listened to them back then,' I replied.

'At least you never slept with her,' she consoled me.

'Yeah, but not because of lack of trying from her side,' I replied. 'From our first day on she did anything to seduce me.'

'And you withstood? Remarkable. I always thought any hormone ridden sixteen year old would jump at that chance,' she mused.

I looked up and shot her a withering glance. 'I happen to think I'm not any hormone ridden teenager, thank you very much. After all, I resisted Voldemort's Imperious Course!'

'I imagine, that's not quite the same,' she replied and the corners of her mouth twitched.

For a moment, we looked at each other and then broke out laughing.

'No, definitely not quite the same,' I finally wheezed, which set her off again.

'Just to satisfy my curiosity, what is the bride price of the average witch?' I asked after I was able to breathe normally again.

'Fifty thousand Galleons, plus an additional compensation of another fifty thousand, twice as much if you dishonour an heiress' she answered.

I let out a low whistle. Fifty thousand Galleons amounted to five million pounds, so in the worst case sleeping with Ginny would have cost me ten million pounds, not to mention that I would have had to marry her. That was about the amount of money my parents had left me in their vault. Today, my yearly income was sixteen times as much, but last year that sum would surely have caused me sleepless nights. As insignificant as the sum seemed to me now, it still was a huge fortune for the Weasleys.

'Merlin, what a mess,' I sighed and rubbed my face with the palms of my hands. 'So, you're practically accusing Ginny that she tried to seduce me to marry me and get money out of me for her family? And you think the Weasleys have known it and encouraged her?'

'I'm not accusing her of anything,' Daphne said firmly. 'I know too little about your relationship to be a judge about her intentions. You have to determine that, Harry. Also, I can't say what her family knew and maybe condoned. But by what you told me about the reactions of her mother and her brothers, they seem to be of the impression that you dishonoured her. However, it's strange that Mr Weasley never called you out. They might not adhere to the old traditions anymore, but this is such a serious matter in the eyes of the Wizarding World that he ought to do something about it, if he thought you wronged his daughter.'

'Thank you for telling me, Daphne,' I said. 'You surely gave me a lot to think about.'

I stood up and went out on the veranda, where I sat down in one of the deckchairs and looked out on the sea. My view on my relationship with Ginny and the Weasleys had just been thrown upside down. Why had Ron never told me about that when I started dating his sister? He was supposed to be my best mate; a slight heads up would not have been too much to expect.

The more I thought about it, I only came to one logical conclusion: Ginny had tried to set me up, and Ron had helped her by leaving me ignorant. I'd thought I was over my break-up with Ginny and the obvious end of my friendship with Ron. But these new revelations broke up the old wounds again.

HP - DG

I was still feeling hurt and confused when we reached Nuku'Alofa the next morning.

During breakfast, Daphne suddenly said, 'Stop brooding, Harry.'

I looked up from my plate with fruits. In the warm climate my usual British breakfast didn't taste as good as at home, so I'd started to copy Daphne's eating habits.

'You won't know for sure what her intentions were as long as you've not talked to her. And even then she might lie to you. You've already broken up with her. What I told you yesterday and the conclusions you draw might add to the reasons for your break-up, but it's of no use to go through all the pain once again,' she elaborated.

'If it would only be as easy as that,' I sighed.

She gave me a small smile. 'Yeah, you've never been one to shake off problems easily,' she agreed. 'At school, it was always plain to see when something was bothering you.'

'Comes probably with being a Gryffindor,' I mumbled, and she laughed.

She stood up from the table and gathered her things. 'Come on, Harry, let's enjoy a day on land. You'll get over it!'

I sighed again, grabbed my backpack and followed her out of the restaurant. While the other passengers entered the ancient looking busses that were going to drive them to the sights of the island, Daphne and I had scorned the offered tours. They all sounded rather boring and made for people already beyond their prime.

In situations like this it really paid off that Daphne was an experienced traveller. She had the good sense to ask the travel agency on board of the "Princess Isabella" for ideas for a private tour, and they'd suggested a kayak tour to one of the many islands near the town of Nuku'Alofa. We were handed a picnic hamper at the reception – another of Daphne's ideas – and then went down the gangway.

The town of Nuku'Alofa at fist sight really didn't look inviting, so we were glad that our kayak was already awaiting us. We entered the kayak and put out to sea. After some difficulties in the beginning we soon got the hang of how to paddle.

The colour of the day was blue – the blue sky above us and the darker, velvety blue sea around us that sparkled in the sunlight. The water below us was crystal clear. We could see coral reefs and millions of fishes who swam among the corals. At one time we even saw a sea turtle majestically heading out to the open sea.

The route to the small abandoned island that had been pointed out to us was littered with dozen of ship wracks. From the kayak, we could easily see that quite a lot of them had already been captured by corals and fishes looking out for a hiding place. Even with little imagination it was plain to see that soon a new reef would be born out of the wreckage.

After not even an hour of paddling we reached the small island. We'd been told it was an abandoned copra plantation. The rotting remains of a concrete landing pier and a wooden house were still to be seen, but Daphne and I headed toward a hidden bay to the left of the pier.

The half-moon shaped stretch of almost white sand could only be reached from the water. Soon, the water became too shallow to paddle, and we had to get out on the kayak and haul it onto the beach.

I looked around. No soul was to be seen, so I let my wand slip an inch out of the invisible holster and cast silently 'Locomotor kayak'.

Unfortunately, I hadn't warned Daphne about what I was going to do. She let out a surprised yelp, stumbled over her own feet and fell headlong into the water with an ungraceful splash. That was definitely not the finest moment of the always poised and graceful former Ice Queen of Slytherin.

Coughing and spluttering, a soaked Daphne scrambled to her feet. Her hair as well as her t-shirt and shorts stuck to her body. She looked like a drowned rat. Well, a drowned rat that wore a wet, white t-shirt with no bra or bikini top below. I felt how I became uncomfortably hot, and that was not due to the raising temperature on this fine day in the South Sea.

Daphne wiped the water out of her eyes and glared at me.

In typical Gryffindor fashion, I was dumb enough not to hide my amusement.

'Harry James Potter!' she hissed.

'Yes, Daphne?' I replied as innocently as I could.

The next moment she tackled me with a move worth of a professional rugby player. Daphne might look slim and delicate, but she was used to a good daily work out, and her sylphlike figure hid solid muscles, as I was about to find out.

Her onslaught made me stumble backwards. Daphne helped me on my way down. She hooked her foot behind my ankle and pushed against my chest with both hands. With an even bigger splash than Daphne I fell backward into the tepid water, while my hands in vain groped for something to hold on to.

Now it was my turn to get back to my feet coughing and spluttering.

A smirking Daphne watched my progress, her arms folded under her breast, thus pushing them up nicely.

Merlin!

I narrowed my eyes at her, which unfortunately gave away my intention. She whirled around and ran away from me, shrieking with laughter. Of course I followed her.

She was fast, even though she was hindered by the water, that I had to give her. But I was bigger than she and had longer legs, so in spite of her advantage I eventually caught up with her and tackled her.

This time, we both fell into the water. Daphne was back on her feet in an instant an began shovelling water at me with both hands. I retaliated in kind, and soon we had a water fight like some hyperactive preschool kids.

Daphne was the first to admit defeat. She made a dive to the deeper part of the small bay and began to swim. I followed her. For the next fifteen minutes we swam side by side and occasionally dived down in the crystal water to have a better look at the colourful corals below us.

In mutual agreement we finally made our way back to the beach and slumped down in the sand beside the kayak.

'That was fun!' Daphne grinned.

'Yeah!' I admitted, somehow breathless.

Her wet t-shirt still clung to her torso. She took out her wand and performed a Drying Spell on herself and then on me, and I let out an inward sigh of relief as her shirt became opaque again.

An unbidden thought came into my mind. _Men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way._ Damn! I'd lived with Hermione for months in a tent without once thinking of her that way, so I'd thought myself above the hormone craziness. Daphne was just another friend, wasn't she? Merlin, what a fool I'd been! Thinking back, I discovered that I not once thought of her as just another friend. From our first day together I'd been aware that she was a beautiful young woman and felt myself attracted to her because of that.

I let out an involuntary groan and covered my eyes with my arms.

Daphne rolled to her side and propped her head up on her hand. 'Harry? Everything all right?' Her voice sounded concerned.

I moved my arm back to my side and looked at her. 'I'm fine,' I assured her with a smile I hoped to be convincing. 'I just thought of something I almost forgot.'

The look she gave me clearly indicated that she didn't believe me, but as always she left it at that, respecting my privacy. Of course, by now she'd developed her own tactics to make me talk. I don't know how she did it, she never badgered like Hermione. She just gave me that knowing look and then kept close, seemingly occupied with something else, but subtly indicating that she was still ready to listen. And at some point I'd start talking – and always felt better afterwards.

But not this time, I swore to myself. She was still grieving for her parents and I was the only one she'd been in closer contact with since then. I couldn't take advantage of that.

We dozed for a while in the shadow of the palm trees, then Daphne unpacked the picnic hamper. After our meal it was time to get back to the "Princess Isabella".

Back in our suite, we took turns in the shower to get the salt and sand off our skin. When I returned to the living room, Daphne awaited me, already dressed for dinner in a simple light grey shift dress and light make up applied on her face. The colour suited her; it made her pearly skin glow. It was quite the contrast to the drowned rat in sportswear, and I had to smile.

'You look gorgeous,' I told her as I sat down beside her.

Her cheeks pinked. 'Thanks,' she said and then handed me the program the butler had brought a few minutes ago, together with the customary champagne and pralines.

I skimmed the program. The most prominent header was a reminder to the gentlemen on board to make their pre-orders for flowers for Valentines Day not later than tomorrow, and with a groan I put the program back onto the table.

Daphne gave me a curious glance over the rim of her champagne flute.

'The day of horrors is upcoming,' I explained and pointed to the header.

'Valentines Day? Why is it so horrible to you?'

'Well, let's say I'm still suffering from the Lockhart trauma in our second year,' I replied and rolled my eyes.

'Oh yeah, don't remind me! I've never seen something as hilarious as his lavender coloured robes. And those dwarfs dressed up as cupids! Merlin, they were so ugly!'

Her laughter was contagious and I couldn't help to join in. 'You wouldn't have thought them as half as hilarious had you been serenaded by them,' I grumbled.

She gasped. 'Oh, how could I forget about that? _"His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toads..."_ The whole school laughed about that.'

I groaned loud. 'Greengrass! Did you really have to remind me?'

'Yes, if I get to see that look on your face again!' she giggled. 'Honestly, I begin to understand your Valentines Day trauma. Though, I'm glad that I never had to suffer through something like that.' Her face suddenly grew sad.

'What's the matter, Daphne?'

'Oh, I just had to think of Dad. Each year on Valentines Day he'd send flowers to Mum and I.' She wiped a tear out of her eyes and than squared her shoulders. 'I've got to get used to it that he isn't here anymore to spoil me.'

'The "firsts" are the hardest thing to get over. You know, first Christmas without someone, first birthday ...' I remarked. Even though I hadn't spend that much time with Sirius, it had been like that for me after his death.

She nodded. 'I know. It was like that at my birthday last year and then Christmas. Though, I had my hands full with Mum and not much time to dwell on what I'd lost. Maybe that's why I'm suddenly so sad about stupid Valentines Day.'

I put my arm around her and hugged her lightly. She leaned her head against my shoulder. There were no words needed. Moments like this had happened frequently over the last six weeks. Something insignificant would trigger a memory of her parents, and the grief came back with full force.

After a few minutes, she raised her head and kissed me on the cheek. 'Thank you, Harry. I'm feeling better now. Come on, let's go down for dinner!'

It was not until I got ready for bed that night that I again thought of Ginny and Ron and their betrayal. Somehow, it wasn't important anymore.

HP – DG

We were back at sea and heading to what most of the passengers thought the highlight of the cruise: New Zealand and Australia. Daphne and I got hundreds of suggestions from well-meaning fellow travellers what we just _had_ to do down there and what we shouldn't miss. Admittedly, I hadn't spend much thought on what I'd do on board when I booked the cruise. It had been a spur of the moment decision to escape my loneliness and boredom, and of course the grey British winter. Daphne, who hadn't thought of taking a cruise around the world at all, had even less ideas than I.

So, we spend the next day amicably squabbling over the tour prospects for Auckland and the Bay of Islands, until we finally agreed on a coast and rainforest tour in a small group.

We reached Auckland on Valentines Day. When we met in the living room that morning to go down to the restaurant for breakfast, Daphne seemed composed. Nothing in her demeanour betrayed if she felt any sadness.

The bus already waited for us when we left the ship after breakfast, and we drove to the Waitakere Ranges National Park. On our way we made a stop at the Arataki Visitor Centre, where we admired Maori carvings and had a fantastic view on the Tasman sea from the outdoor deck. A walk through the coastal rainforest followed. The narrow forest path led alongside a crystal clear stream that burbled happily over moss-covered stones. Giant fern trees shaded the path, and we listened in fascination as our guide pointed out the New Zealand fauna and flora.

The walk ended in a secluded beach that was covered with black sand. Our guide led us along the beach, and on the other side of the beach we had not only a fantastic view on the Tasman Sea and the rainforest, but were also treated to an excellent picnic lunch.

Daphne and I each took a sandwich and a bottle of coke and sat down on a flat rock in front of a bigger one that made a decent backrest.

'Isn't that wonderful?' Daphne asked, sipping her coke, and leaned against my chest.

I looked at her with raised eyebrows.

'You're way softer than the rock,' she giggled and made herself comfortable.

'You're welcome,' I chuckled and shook my head.

We held our faces into the sun and enjoyed each other's company until the tour guide announced that it was time to move on.

We now walked through a forest of ancient kauri trees, some of them as old as a thousand years, as the guide told us. Even more impressing was the ancient magic that radiated from the ancient trees and that made the hairs on my arm stand up.

Daphne and I exchanged a look.

'Do you feel it, too?' I asked and she nodded to that.

Our guide called to move on. Daphne and I each put a hand on the stem of the ancient tree in a good bye gesture. The magic surged through us like an electric jolt, though not unpleasant, and fulfilled us with a feeling of comfort and peace.

'Wow!' Daphne breathed and reluctantly pulled her hand away.

'Yeah!' I agreed. The feeling had rendered me speechless.

She grabbed for my hand, and we hurried to catch up with our group. We were both rather silent on our way back, both still relishing the feeling the ancient kauri tree had inspired in us.

Back in our suite, Daphne's eyes first fell on the bouquet of pink roses on the middle of the coffee table. She stopped in her tracks and gaped.

'Who...?' she asked and picked up the card that lay beside the flowers.

'Happy Valentines Day – Harry,' she read out loud. She let the card sink and gave me a blinding smile. 'Oh Harry, that's so sweet of you!' she cried.

Next thing I knew was she flung herself at me and kissed me on the cheek.

'You're welcome,' I managed to call after a still beaming Daphne that retreated to the bathroom when I finally found my voice again.

HP – DG

The next day we reached the Bay of Islands. Again, Daphne and I had opted for a more active tour rather than exploring the historical and cultural sights, as most of the other – and much older – passengers did.

We were tendered to Waitangi Wharf, where our tour guide already waited for us in a boat. From there, we cruised about forty minutes along the picturesque coast, enjoying the views of the bay. Then we transferred to kayaks and paddled up a river through a mangrove forest. Our guide pointed out the many birds that nested in the trees, and Daphne ever so often asked me to stop so that she could take pictures.

The tour ended at a waterfall, and here the real fun started. Our guide showed us to paddle into the foaming white water, and then guided us behind the waterfall. It was a breath-taking experience to watch the masses of water rush down only a yard away.

Thoroughly soaked and spent we finally paddled to the shore. We were able to change into dry clothes, and then got a picnic lunch with a view onto the waterfall and the surrounding mangrove forest.

After that, a bus took us back to the small town of Paihia, where we spend some time watching the sights and window shopping. Daphne seemed to admire the pretty jewellery made out of the mother-of-pearl paua shell, but when I asked her to go into the shop and have a closer look, she shook her head.

'I'd better not,' she said, though she gave a bracelet that was made of playing dolphins in all colours the shell offered, a wistful look.

'Why not?' I asked bluntly. I'd noticed before that Daphne seemed to love shopping, which was not amazing, considering the way she'd been brought up by her mother, but hardly ever bought something for herself on this cruise, except the essentials as toothpaste and every now and then one of the fashion magazines her mother had loved.

Daphne looked up and down the street. We were alone, the many other visitors of the small town either still lingered over lunch or had disappeared in one of the many shops.

'I know I'm being ridiculous,' she whispered, 'but when Grenian House had been destroyed I vowed at the grave of my father to rebuild it as soon as possible. Well, you know everything about the financial troubles I had last summer. My situation is better now, since I don't have to take care of Mum's medical bills anymore and now also have access to her income from her trust.' Her voice choked at that and I waited patiently until she regained her composure. 'However, magical construction is costly. I have to contract the Goblins to rebuild the house and set up the wards again, and I need to obtain at least two house elves, not only to keep the house in order, but mostly to maintain the magic of the place with their own magic. Even with the business of Greengrass Shipping picking up and the income from Mum's trust, it'll take years until I'm able to afford that all.' She bit on her lower lip and looked rather embarrassed. 'Until then I have the feeling that I ought not to spend a single Knut at frivolities that aren't strictly necessary. And you may laugh at me now, I know that buying a bracelet at the price of twenty pounds won't be a set back in my plans, but I simply can't help myself.'

I didn't laugh. From her description it sounded as if she'd taken a magical vow at her father's grave. Snape's example had shown me the hard way that magical vows were nothing to trifle with. She'd probably worded her vow in a way that her magic forbade her to do anything for her own fun until she'd reached her goal. Given her desperation at the time of her father's death, I thought that very likely.

On the other hand, she'd wanted to buy cowboy boots in San Francisco. Though, I reminded myself, there was no saying whether she'd really have made the deal. Aunt Petunia, for example, loved to try on things in shops that were too expensive for her and left without ever actually buying something.

Without another word I pulled her into the shop.

'Harry, what are you doing?' she asked bewildered.

'Buying the bracelet for you, since your magic obviously won't let you,' I told her under my breath, mindful of the approaching clerk.

'Harry, you can't be serious, you...' she protested.

I blended her out. Five minutes later a beaming Daphne thanked my with a kiss on my cheek for the trinket that now adorned her wrist, and I caught myself at he thought that I'd gladly buy all the paua shell bracelets in the world, and the moon and the stars on top, only to see that look of joy on her face again.

That almost made me stop dead in my tracks.

'Harry? Everything all right?' Daphne asked.

'Everything's just wonderful,' I assured her, and it wasn't a lie. I was falling for her, fast and hard, and something in her demeanour told me she also wasn't indifferent towards me.

We still had ten weeks of travel ahead of us. We could take our time, considering that Daphne still wasn't over her grieve.

HP – DG

We had another two days at sea before we reached Sydney. Again, I'd neglected my Board of Financial Advisors two days in a row in favour of exploring New Zealand with Daphne, so I sat down at my desk the next morning after breakfast to make it up to them.

When I opened my briefcase, Ginny's letter fell out. I picked it up from the floor and stared at it, not knowing what I was supposed to do with it.

Daphne looked up from her correspondence. 'Are you finally going to answer the letter from your ex?' she asked.

I was flabbergasted. 'How do you know the letter is from Ginny?'

'By the hurt in your eyes,' she replied quietly and returned to her correspondence.

I stared at her bowed head. It was uncanny how well she knew me after only seven weeks of staying together. With a sigh, I pulled a piece of parchment toward me. She was right; I had to write to Ginny. I had to put an end to this misery, if I really wanted a new start with Daphne. I picked up a quill and began to write.

 _Ginny,_

 _Stop writing to me. I meant every word I said. Do yourself a favour and move on, as I have done._

 _Harry_


	4. From Sydney to Hiroshima

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

HP - DG

 **From Sydney to Hiroshima**

If it's possible to fall in love with a city, I fell in love with Sydney at first sight.

The morning we reached Sydney I got up before sunrise and showered and dressed into light slacks and a shirt. After that, I tiptoed into the dark living room. Daphne was still sound asleep, buried deep under her duvet. With as little noise as possible I pulled the curtains to the side to get out onto the veranda, but jumped when a Stinging Hex missed me by barely an inch. I whirled around.

A very sleepy and disgruntled Daphne put her wand back onto the coffee table and swung a pair of shapely legs over the edge of her sofa bed. Her long hair was messed up from sleep and she looked simply adorable in her oversized shirt as she glared at me.

I gave her a sheepish grin. 'Sorry, Daphne. I didn't mean to wake you.'

She harrumphed to that and made her way into the bathroom, while I stepped out onto the veranda and leaned against the railing to wait for the sunrise. I considered myself lucky that Daphne had never joined the D.A., because her aim was rather accurate and the power she'd put behind the spell had been remarkable. I shuddered to think what she'd be capable of with some proper training.

Daphne came out onto the veranda just in time with the sunrise. She wore a pink blouse over tight white jeans and trainers. Her hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail, and as always when we planned to spend a day on land she wore no make up. She looked beautiful and I hardly could take my eyes off her. It was the first time since her mother's death that she wore something colourful, I suddenly realised. The first days after the tragedy she'd only worn black clothes and after that only grey and off white coloured clothes.

'Pink suits you,' I told her and was rewarded with a smile.

She leaned beside me at the railing, her arm and shoulder touching mine. The warm breeze played with the strands of her hair that had escaped from her pony tail, and ever so often she'd raise her free hand and brush the strands back. In a companionable silence we watched as the coastline came closer in the light of the rising sun, though I have to admit that I was more fascinated with Daphne, who had her eyes closed and bathed her face in the sunlight.

The natural harbour of Sydney surely was one of a kind. When the "Princess Isabella" slowly rounded South Head and made her way into the harbour, we discovered that the city stretched out around it. Yet the predominant colour on shore still was green. Headlands jotted out into the bay, forming countless smaller bays. Thousands of sailing boats and motor yachts anchored in the dozens of small bays we passed, and each turn the "Princess Isabella" took opened the view onto another hidden beach or on one of the numerous islands that dotted the harbour.

'Judging by the many sport boats and sailing ships it seems the harbour is a huge playground for the citizens of Sydney and they all chose to live around it to have faster access to the fun,' Daphne laughed, and I agreed.

The "Princess Isabella" anchored at the Overseas Passenger Terminal, which gave us a wonderful view on the Opera House. The unique roof construction shone in the light of the early morning sun like the sails of a fantasy ship. No one was allowed to leave from board until we'd passed the immigration formalities. As passengers of the big suites, Daphne and I once more got preferential treatment and were able to have breakfast while our fellow travellers still waited for their turn. While we had breakfast, we talked about our plans for the day. With the help of the travel agency on board we'd booked two events ahead, but the rest of the day we were free to explore the amazing city.

'I'd like to spend some time on the beach,' Daphne said while she poured herself another cup of tea.

'Why am I not surprised about that?' I snorted. 'But it's all right with me.'

She gave me a blinding smile of thanks, and in a content silence we sipped our tea and waited until we were allowed to leave the ship.

The Overseas Passenger Terminal is conveniently located in Circular Quay. 'Wow, it really looks as if we're in the middle of everything,' I remarked as we stepped out of the building. 'Have you already seen from where the ferries depart?'

'I think it's this way,' Daphne replied and took my arm. After a short walk we reached the ferry terminal. It didn't take us long to find the line that'd take us to Taronga Zoo. We boarded the ship, but instead of taking one of the seats, we went to the railing to have a better look at the city.

Slowly, the ship left the wharf. Turning around the headland of the Sydney Opera House it picked up speed, but gave us time enough to admire the unique building. I took a fantastic picture of Daphne, leaning against the railing with the Opera House in the background and her long hair tousled by the wind, that adorns my desk until today.

After the Opera House we passed a small island with a fort on it.

'That's Fort Denison,' Daphne educated me. She'd spent yesterday afternoon reading the travel guide about Sydney, while I had opted for the Qudditch section of the "Daily Prophet" Kingsley had sent me. Admittedly, he sent me the newspaper – if you could call it that – to keep me on track with the developments in magical Britain, but I could stomach only so much nonsense in one day and had indulged in the sports section.

'Show off!' I told her, which earned me a sharp poke of her elbow in the side. I laughed and put my arm around her.

Looking back, we had a breath-taking view on Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. Daphne leaned against me. When we neared Taronga Zoo Wharf, she pointed to a bay to our left that cut deeply into the land. 'That's Little Sirius Cove and Great Sirius Cove,' she said quietly. 'I thought we'd take a walk there after our visit to the zoo.'

I'd told her about Sirius and the way I'd lost him on one of these warm, moonlit nights we spent on the veranda, drinking beer and talking about anything that came to our minds. She knew how much I cherished his memory.

'I'd like that,' I smiled and pulled her towards me in a short hug.

At the zoo we were greeted by our private guide. We'd booked a behind-the-scenes tour of the native animals of Australia. By the look on Daphne's face I could tell she was as keen as I to see what awaited us.

The guide first led us to an enclosure that hosted emus. He opened the door and invited us in.

'Wow, we're allowed to get that close to the animals?' Daphne exclaimed.

'Of course, miss, this is a behind-the-scenes tour,' the guide laughed. He gave us small bunches of grass with seeds. 'Take these to lure the birds to you. They are crazy about this stuff!'

Indeed, they were. It didn't take long for the first emu to come closer to Daphne, crane its neck and take a first, tentative peck. If it had been dark, the smile on Daphne's face could have lit the zoo, and I snapped picture after picture.

'Now it's your turn, Harry!' Daphne announced and took the camera from me.

I held a bunch of grass out to the emus in front of me, and soon they crowded around me, fighting for the best spot to get at the yummy treats. I had a blast. That is, until I felt something pecking at my behind. I craned my neck to have a look. An especially adventurous emu pecked at a bunch of grass that was sticking out of the back pocket of my slacks, and in it's enthusiasm to get at the yummy food the bird didn't care where exactly it pecked.

By the giggles that came from Daphne I didn't have to ask who'd put the grass in my back pocket. I glared at her, but of course she was not fazed and kept taking pictures until I removed the grass from my pocket, lest not to be eaten up by the enthusiastic bird.

'Spoilsport!' she pouted.

I narrowed my eyes and made a step toward her.

She laughed and made a strategic retreat behind a group of emus. 'I'm sorry, all right? But gosh, Harry, you should have seen your face!' Another fit of laughter shook her.

'I'm happy that I could provide for your entertainment, Miss Greengrass,' I grumbled, but I wasn't really mad at her. After the ordeals we'd been through we both cherished each bit of fun we could get.

Next on our agenda were the kangaroos.

'You can't visit Australia without saying hello to our unofficial heraldic animal,' our guide grinned when he opened the door to the enclosure. 'These are our bush wallabies. They are even greedier than the emus!' He handed us the treats for the small animals.

He was right. The cute little rascals would do anything for an extra treat, we soon found out. I got my revenge on Daphne when one wallaby stuck its head into the cleavage of her blouse, though I can't imagine what kind of treats the animal expected to find there. Daphne shrieked, and I was howling with laughter, but had the presence of mind to push the release button of my camera exactly that moment.

'You're not going to keep that picture, Potter!' Daphne glared after she'd recovered from her surprise.

'You bet I will!' I returned. 'It's prime blackmail material, after all.'

She narrowed her eyes at me. 'We'll talk about that again, Potter!' The threat in her voice was unmistakeable, and a lesser man than I would probably have quivered in his shoes. But I'd lived with Daphne for seven weeks and knew by now that her bark was worse than her bite. Why my classmates ever were intimidated by the Ice Queen of Slytherin was really beyond me. I laughed and grabbed her hand.

'Should I be afraid?'

'Very!' she replied and poked me in the side.

Still holding hands we followed the guard to the most cherished treasure of the zoo, the platypus.

'This is Annie, our platypus,' he introduced us to the strange animal that looked like a cross between a duck and a mole. 'Annie came to us two years ago from the wild with severe injuries. We're lucky that she survived.'

'You'd think that an animal looking like that is a hoax,' Daphne mused, looking in fascination at the strange creature.

'Funny you'd say that,' our guide replied. 'In fact, that's exactly what European scientists thought when the species was first discovered.' He then regaled us with more facts about the animal. After that, we knew that it used its tail for storage for fat reserves and that its bite was venomous.

'I wonder if that species is somehow related to the Niffler,' Daphne whispered into my ear when our guide locked the door to the platypus enclosure behind him. 'The animal looks so strange, there must be magic involved!'

The tour ended with another highlight, a visit in the koala enclosure. Again, we were allowed to take as many pictures as we liked to.

'You may take him on your arm, miss,' the guide said. He plucked one of the cuddly bundles from the tree where it sat and munched on eucalyptus leaves, and put it into Daphne's arm. The look on her face when he did so was indescribable. Her pink blouse and white jeans were rather grimy after that, but by the beaming expression on her face I could tell that she didn't care.

Our tour ended on the terrace of the restaurant, where we were being offered refreshments. Daphne and I sat side by side at one of the small tables and enjoyed the view over the harbour while savouring a cup of tea and small cakes.

'Mhmm, this one is really good! Have a try, Harry,' Daphne said and held out a spoon with cake. I let her feed me the cake and had to agree that it in fact was good.

Afterwards, we explored the zoo some more. The place offered fantastic views of the harbour and on the Opera House at every turn. Where else in the world can you snap a picture with giraffes and the blue water of the harbour and the Opera House in the background?

After another hour we decided we had enough. We left the zoo and walked along the Foreshore Track until we reached Great Sirius Cove. There we sat down in the warm sand and looked at the many sailing boats that anchored in the small bay. It was a quiet and peaceful place, nothing you'd have expected in a city as big and bustling as Sydney.

'He'd have loved it here,' I finally said, and Daphne took my hand.

'You still miss him,' she stated.

'Of course,' I sighed. 'But it's been two years now, and I'm a big boy and can get on by myself. After all, that's what I've been doing most of my life.'

She looked at me. 'You're not without a friend, Harry. You've got me.'

Our eyes locked. That were almost the same words I had told her on the "Princess Isabella" after she'd said her last good bye to her mother. By the look in her eyes I could tell she remembered that moment as clearly as I did.

'I know,' I replied quietly, and again looked out onto the water, still holding Daphne's hand, but not really seeing anything of the beautiful scenery around us.

I was startled from my silent remembrance by a class of schoolkids who invaded the quiet cove like a flock of especially loud and brassy sparrows. Daphne and I grimaced at each other, then got up to our feet and walked to Taronga Zoo wharf hand in hand.

We took the ferry back to Circular Quay where we made a short stop on board of the "Princess Isabella" so that Daphne could get changed out of her grubby clothes. We'd agreed on a visit to Bondi Beach in the afternoon, so I also took the opportunity to put on my swimming trunks underneath my slacks.

Daphne reappeared not even fifteen minutes later. This time, she wore a loose, light blue summer dress and carried a huge straw bag. Her hair hung open down to the middle of her back.

'For our towels and your novel and my magazines,' she explained as she noticed the question on my face. 'I've put a Featherweight Charm on everything, so it's no bother at all.'

We left the "Princess Isabella" and turned left, in search for a place to have a light lunch and a taxi that took us to Bondi Beach, not necessarily in that order. That way, we happened to hit upon the Royal Botanic Garden.

Daphne's eyes lit up as we entered the garden. 'Oh, that reminds me of Grenian House!' she exclaimed, taking in the view of a pond that was surrounded by colourful flower beds. A lush, green lawn stretched from there down to the waterfront. A couple of black swans glided lazily through the green waters of the pond.

'Your ancestral home?' I asked, and she nodded, the smile still on her face, though her eyes turned sad.

'Yes. The Greengrasses always prided themselves for their beautiful gardens. _Nomen est omen_ , you know. Grenian is an old English word and means a place where green things grow. I think the family originally were farmers. During the medieval ages they became merchants, though. My great-great-grandfather finally founded the shipping company some hundred-and- twenty years ago.'

She gulped, biting back the tears. 'Merlin, I'm so stupid crying about the loss of the house! Screw the house, if only Mum and Dad were still alive!'

I took her hand and guided her to one of the benches that stood around the pond. We sat down and I put my arm around her shoulder, while she leaned against me. As always, she needed some time to find her composure. When I noticed she'd become quieter, I said, 'You'll rebuild Grenian House.'

'Of course,' she agreed. 'Though I can't help wondering what became of the gardens. The house elves always took great care of them, but Dibby and Tipsy died when the house collapsed, due to their magic that was tied to the house. I used to help them weeding the garden whenever I was at home. They hated that, though. "Missy Daffy bes not to do dirty work!" they'd complain, but in the end they'd always let me help them. I loved working in the garden. It was so soothing.'

'I've also done a lot of gardening at my aunt's house,' I said. 'Though it was not voluntarily. She made me do it, to earn my keep. First, working in the garden was a way to get away from them, but I soon found out that I liked it. You're right, it is soothing. I never told her that, though, or she'd given me something else to do, just to spite me.'

'Oh Harry!' she whispered. She turned her head and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.

We sat silently for a while, until I suggested to move on. Daphne nodded to that, and I stretched out my hand when I stood up and pulled her up. Daphne never bothered to take her hand away while we walked out of the park and called a taxi.

Bondi Beach was big, sunny and crowded. We managed to find a reasonably quiet place and spread our towels on the ground. Daphne slipped out of her dress. Underneath, she wore a lavender coloured bikini. I'd never seen her in a bikini before; during our regular turns in the pool in the morning she always wore a swimsuit. Not that I complained; she looked fantastic in a bikini.

'I'm not planning on going into the water today,' she informed me, reading the look on my face. 'I just want to work on my seamless tan.' With that, she discarded her bikini top, and I almost swallowed my tongue. A look around told me that topless sunbathing was not uncommon on Bondi Beach. In fact, most of the young women were topless. But I'd spent six years at a boarding school where girls were bundled up in thick, bulky robes, another year on the run where opportunities for sunbathing had been scarce and the summer holed up at Grimmauld Place, licking my wounds, so it really wasn't surprising that I felt a trifle flustered.

Daphne lay on her back and had her eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to my confusion. Though, the slight smirk on her face told me that she knew exactly what she'd done to me and had planned it. You could take the girl out of Slytherin, but never Slytherin out of the girl. It was just her poor luck that getting Tom out of my head meant that I was not only more observant, but also able to think quicker and clearer than ever before, and I was not willing to let her pull my leg without retaliation.

I looked around. Everyone in our vicinity was happily occupied with the things people do when they are on the beach. I let my wand slip out of the invisible holster for an inch, directed it at Daphne and thought 'Aguamenti Gelido!'

A small splash of water hit her right on the chest. Daphne shrieked and shot bolt upright. Of course she knew whom to blame for the ice cold surprise, and she glared at me.

I employed my best, innocent little-boy-look, but she didn't buy it. The look she gave me before she lay back on her towel promised that I'd be in for retaliation before the day was over. Oh well! I sniggered to myself and turned to my mystery novel. Gentleman that I was, I never let my eyes stray to her. All right, not more often than once or twice.

Daphne stirred after an hour, just in time with a rather obnoxious growl of my empty stomach.

'I think that's enough for today, or I'll look like a boiled lobster tomorrow,' she announced.

I sniggered at that, which earned me another of her patented Ice-Queen-looks.

'That doesn't work on me anymore, Daphne,' I grinned, and she laughed.

We packed our things and looked for a place to eat. After a delicious slice of pizza I felt ready to explore this amazing city some more.

The waitress at the restaurant had recommended the Bondi to Bronte Coastal Walk, so we decided to give it a try. After the long days on board it felt always good to stretch our legs on land.

The waitress had not exaggerated, the walk was beautiful. It offered breath-taking views on the ocean and the rugged coast at every turn, and Daphne took photo after photo.

Finally, it was time to return to the "Princess Isabell", because we had yet another adventure planned for that evening. Back on board, we showered and dressed in practical clothes and sturdy shoes. After that we met our guide at the foot of Harbour Bridge. We were handed special safety suits and safety gear, and then ascended the majestic bridge. It was easier than I had thought. The ascendance wasn't as steep as it seemed from below. During the way up the tour guide informed us about the history of the bridge and the technical details behind it. He was easily to understand, because we'd all been handed headsets at the beginning of the tour. He also pointed out the landmarks around the harbour and of the skyline of the city, especially the tall Sydney Tower.

As we reached the summit, we were rewarded with an amazing view on the harbour at sunset. In the rays of the sinking sun the Opera House looked as if it was on fire. About more than 130 metres high, the summit afforded a spectacular view on the harbour and the city. Below us, the "Princess Isabella" looked as small as a toy. It was almost like being back on my Firebolt, only without the speed.

Daphne however looked rather uncomfortable. Though each of us was roped up to a safety stranded wire, she clawed her hand into my safety overall while she stood beside me at the summit of the bridge, and her face had a slight green hue.

'Don't look down or you'll get dizzy,' I whispered in her ears. 'Better concentrate on the view into the distance.'

She nodded and gulped, but raised her head and looked around. I put my arm around her shoulder to give her a more stable feeling. She replied to that with a small smile and a quiet 'Thank you, Harry,' and relaxed visibly. However, she looked more than a bit relieved when we finally were back at the foot of the bridge and peeled ourselves out of the safety gear.

I took her hand and gave her an apologetic smile as we ambled towards The Rocks for a late dinner and maybe listening to some life music. 'I'm sorry, Daphne. I didn't know you're afraid of heights, or I'd never suggested that excursion!'

'Don't apologise, Harry! I need to overcome that fear, and climbing the bridge helped,' she replied.

I still was concerned. 'All right, but what's about the balloon ride tomorrow morning? Are you sure you're up to that?'

She turned her head and smiled at me. 'As long as you promise to hold me when I get dizzy, I'll manage, Harry.'

The next morning, we both rose before sunrise. We met in the atrium with the Meehans, and were then transported to the starting point of a hot air balloon. As always in the very early morning, Daphne was still half asleep. I'd found out that she wasn't able to think straight before she had her first cup of tea if she had to get out of bed really early. So, I wasn't surprised when she snuggled against me in the back of the car and closed her eyes.

We had to wait a little until the balloon was filled with hot air. One member of the staff handed us mugs with hot, strong tea, and Daphne eventually woke up while the balloon straightened into the air. We then climbed into the basket. The balloon ascended just in time with the sun.

As we left the earth quickly behind us, Daphne again gulped. But this time she adhered to my advice and looked straight ahead. After a few minutes, she relaxed and began looking around curiously.

We had a peaceful ride above the Macarthur region. Below us, the houses looked like toy blocks. Light mist rose from the river valleys, adding a mysterious feel to the quiet morning. To our right, the Blue Mountains greeted, and on our left the view stretched far out onto the ocean.

Daphne leaned against me. 'Isn't this beautiful?' she murmured.

'Yeah,' I agreed, and put my arm around her shoulder.

That earned us a chuckle and a knowing look from Alvirah Meehan. Daphne and I both blushed, but I saw no reason to pull my arm off Daphne's shoulder, and thankfully Alvirah was soon distracted by her husband.

Much too soon the fun was over. The balloon landed and we helped to pack up the gear. Then we were treated to a picnic breakfast with a glass of champagne to toast to our successful ride. The pilot even awarded us wit a diploma and a photo of us taken during the flight by a camera outside of the balloon.

But the fun of the day was not over yet. We drove back to Sydney. There we entered an electric boat for a private cruise of the Middle Harbour together with the Meehans. We had coolers with beer and coke with us and huge picnic hampers. First we stopped at a secluded beach and went for a swim, followed by a picnic on the beach. Then we explored the harbour some more, but had to return soon since we were supposed to be back on board by four a.m..

Like the day before, Daphne and I took turns in the bathroom to shower off the sand and salt, and met then on the veranda to share the customary champagne and watch the "Princess Isabella" leave the wonderful city of Sydney.

'I liked it here,' Daphne said as the siren saluted a good bye when we passed the Opera House.

'Me too!' I agreed. 'We have to come back here for a longer visit one day.'

'Here's to that,' Daphne replied, and we clinked our glasses.

HP – DG

The next day we were back at sea and our usual routine.

'The Davis are back in England,' Daphne announced when she read her mail that morning.

'Good for them,' I replied, somewhat distracted by a rather difficult investment proposal from the Goblins.

'Matthew has his old job with the Unspeakables back, Matt is looking forward to his first year at Hogwarts and Tracey is considering private tutoring to get her NEWTs.'

The last bit got my attention and I looked up from the letter I was reading.

'Actually, that's something I have also to think about. I dropped out after sixth year and didn't return in September, though Minerva offered it to me.'

Daphne raised an eyebrow. 'Minerva?'

I blushed. 'She asked me to call her by her first name, though it surely feels weird.'

'I can imagine,' Daphne chuckled. 'That's something I also have to think about. With Mum's condition, I never came around to take my NEWTs.'

I smiled at her. 'Maybe we can set up something when we return and ask Davis to join us. It'll be easier to work in a small group.'

'I'd like that,' Daphne smiled back at me. She returned to her letter and groaned.

I raised my head. 'Something wrong?'

She looked at the letter in her hands with a deep frown on her face. 'Cousin Melissa writes their new house has four bedrooms.'

'Write her back you'll enjoy staying in their spare room whenever you visit them.'

Daphne snorted at that. 'That'll go over well!'

Another thought hit me. 'Just give her my regards, as a subtle reminder you're still travelling with me. That'll have her knickers in a twist, but also tell her you're not willing to let her push you around.'

Daphne sniggered. 'I love it when you're all Slytherin, Harry!'

HP – DG

Our visit to Brisbane was nice, but unspectacular. We made a river cruise and then ventured into the city together with the Meehans, where Alvirah hit the shopping malls. Daphne's Slytherin side really showed because she managed to distract Alvirah from the fact that she wasn't buying anything over and over again without Alvirah once noticing that she was being manipulated.

Another day at sea followed. This one brought unpleasant news when I opened the Banishing Box to get our mail. On top of the stack of letters was a note from the Goblins who scanned my mail. _List of Howlers,_ I read. I looked at the note. There were only two names on it.

 _Ginny Weasley_

 _Molly Weasley_

I sighed.

Daphne looked up. 'Bad news?' she asked.

Without a word I handed her the note. She read it and gave it back to me.

'Well, that was to be expected, wasn't it?'

'Yeah,' I replied. I stood up and walked to the window. I'd told Ginny I was over her and had moved on, and it was the truth. But why on earth did it still hurt so much?

Daphne stepped beside me and put a hand on my arm. 'Do you still love her?'

I shook my head. 'I told you, I never loved her. But when I was with the Weasleys, I had for the first time in my life the feeling I belonged to a family. I guess I'm still longing to get that feeling back, but that will never happen, at least not with the Weasleys.'

She pressed my arm lightly. 'You'll have a family of your own one day, Harry.'

'Probably,' I replied and looked at the young woman by my side. For a split second the image of a little girl with blonde hair and green eyes and a boy with messy black hair and blue eyes popped up in my mind, but I shooed it away. It was too soon, she was still grieving for her parents. I had to give her time, at least until we returned to England, and hope that the feelings we had for each other would still be the same if we both were back in the reality of our daily life.

HP – DG

The next day we reached Yorkeys Knob. From here it was only a hop and a skip to the Great Barrier Reef. Daphne's enthusiasm for any sport done in the water had been addictive. By now, I was a passable swimmer, so there was no big discussion how we were going to spend the day.

We were up before dawn. The "Princess Isabella" anchored in the roads, and the Meehans, another young couple that took the trip from Sydney to Hiroshima on their honeymoon, and Daphne and I were picked up by a motor yacht that would bring us to snorkeling spots at the reef.

We were served muffins, tea and coffee in the salon of the yacht while we drove to the first spot. Without a word I pushed a mug of tea into Daphne's direction, who leaned against me, still half asleep.

She took the mug with a thankful smile, but still leaned against me while she sipped the hot beverage.

'Are you also on your honeymoon?' the young woman who'd introduced herself as Iris asked.

Daphne turned beet red. 'No,' she stammered and gave me a helpless look.

'We're classmates and decided to travel together, but we're not involved,' I told the nosy woman.

'What a pity, you make such a cute couple, don't they, honey?'

Honey, whose name wasn't ever mentioned, as far as I recall, nodded to that. Alvirah sniggered. _Told you so_ , was written clearly on her face, while Willy gently poked his wife into the side, giving Daphne and I an apologetic side glance.

Daphne and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. We were saved by a crew member who introduced us to the equipment, flippers and glasses. We also had to wear a wetsuit because of the jellyfish.

Then we reached the first spot. The motor yacht dropped anchor in some distance from the reef, lest to hurt the sensitive corals. We transferred to a zodiac and were brought to a sparkling white sandbank. Under the guidance of another crewmember the adventure began.

Never before in my life I've seen something that colourful and peaceful. It was hard to imagine that tiny creatures were able to build the biggest structures on our planet, and yet they did, in an abundance of forms and colours that left me feel thankful that I was given the opportunity to see that wonder. Millions of fish lived among the corals. I had no idea what species they were, but they seemed to me like sparkling jewels. The dive lasted an hour, but it felt like only fifteen minutes; there was so much to see and to be awed at.

On our way back to the yacht Daphne looked at me and took my hand. There were no words needed; her eyes said it all. I knew she felt as awed and blessed as I did.

Back on board we were served a light lunch of salads and fruits, while we drove to the next spot. Satiated and tired from the first dive, we settled down in deckchairs under an awning until we reached the second spot.

This one was nearer to the open sea, and beside the amazing array of colourful corals our guide pointed out a couple of creatures that lived in the open sea. Again, the end of the dive came much too soon for my liking, but it was time to return to the "Princess Isabella".

It had been an exiting day, and Daphne and I agreed that we were too tired to change and have dinner in one of the restaurants, so we had dinner at sunset on the veranda of our suite.

'A fantastic ending to a wonderful day,' Daphne said and raised her glass to me.

I couldn't agree more.

HP – DG

The next day brought another unwelcomed surprise: a letter from Hermione. The last time I'd heard from her was after she and Ron had returned from Australia, but I had already moved out of the Burrow and holed myself up at Grimmauld Place. She'd implored me to give Ginny and I another chance, lest not to destroy the friendship between Ron and I. I'd written her back that I couldn't see a future with a girl that couldn't bear me touching her, but that I'd understand if she was going to distance herself from me and that I didn't want her to have to chose between Ron and I.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Why did you have to hurt Ginny with such a short letter? You can't fool me, you still love her. You two are meant to be with each other; after all, you look like a reincarnation of your parents._

 _So, come out of you hole at your godfather's house and join us at the Burrow. I think you made a big mistake when you didn't return to Hogwarts with Ginny and I in September. You've been on your own and grieving for nine month now, don't you think it's time to return to the living?_

 _Your friend Hermione_

I let out a deep sigh.

'The Weaslette again?' Daphne asked from the corner of the sofa where she had curled up.

I shook my head. 'This time it's Hermione. I don't know whether I should be more upset that she thinks Ginny and I should still be together or that she just assumes I did nothing but brood over last nine months.'

Daphne gave me a long look. A strange little smile played around her lips. 'Harry, you haven't been in contact for almost ten months. During this time you've changed quite a lot from the kid you were at Hogwarts, but she wouldn't know that. You can't blame her for still thinking of you as the Harry you were right after the battle.'

'I don't blame her for not knowing that I've changed,' I clarified. 'I'm just upset that she doesn't think me capable of making any change.' I glared at the letter in my hand, but was distracted by a low chuckle from Daphne.

'Oh Harry, you can't blame her on that. After all, you were pretty resistant to emotional learning during our Hogwarts days, from what I can tell. And from what you told me about your time on the run alone with Hermione, you weren't exactly a ray of sunshine then. Not to mention that you admitted that you were pretty messed up right after the battle. You've broken up any contact with her, so it's only natural she thinks you're still the same. Maybe you should write her and tell her what's going on in your life.'

I glared at her, but she only smiled back sweetly. Damned, I hated it when she was right. Her smile deepened when she realised she'd got through to me. With an audible grumble, I pulled a piece of parchment to me.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _You're wrong. I don't love Ginny and I'm not sure if I ever did. Please, stop living in a dream world. I'm not a reincarnation of my father. In fact, after all I've learned about my family during the last months, we couldn't be more different. Your allusion that Ginny and I are just like my parents gives me the creeps, to be honest._

 _You're also wrong when you think I've spent my time holed up since I left the Burrow. That might have been true for the first weeks, but then I realised that I needed to do something about that. I've been in therapy for six months and trust me, I've left the demons of the past behind me._

 _Also, there are a lot of things going on in my life you have no idea of. I've finally come into my full inheritage. Dealing with my family holdings and learning everything I need to know to manage them keeps me rather occupied. Besides that I'm trying to find my role in our society._

 _You're wrong if you think I've spend all my time in Snuffle's house. Actually, I've been travelling since quite some time. During my travels I met someone I think I'd like to spend my life with, but it's still to soon to tell where this relationship will take me._

 _Please, make Ginny see reason, if you can. I've told her I've moved on, but she doesn't seem to understand it. Oh, and tell her and Mrs Weasley not to send any more Howlers. They aren't forwarded to my Banishing Box, anyway, and the Goblins don't like them at all._

 _Your friend Harry_

I think that was one of the longest letters I ever wrote, and I was rather satisfied with the result when I put it into the Banishing Box and tapped with my wand on the box.

HP – DG

A day spent on land in Alotau brought a welcomed distraction from my overbearing bushy-haired friend. There wasn't much to do there, but Daphne and I had fun exploring the local market and having a drink in one of the bars, and of course go for a swim at the beach. It was our last opportunity to stretch our legs, so to speak, before the "Princess Isabella" would start on a longer journey that would take us to Okinawa. We'd be at sea for five days, and I was really looking forward to long, lazy hours lounging on the sun island, sipping cold drinks and talking with Daphne and learning more about Wizarding culture.

At first, everything was as we'd hoped. The first two days were exactly as lazy and relaxing as we'd planned them, barring the daily letters from my financial advisors, of course.

The Wizarding world forced its way into our blissful little world with a bombshell in form of the "Daily Prophet" the next day. It started harmlessly enough when I opened my Banishing Box to get our mail. Again, I found a list with people who'd sent Howlers to me on top of the pile. Most remarkable, it were all female names. I was puzzled. Why by Merlin's unmentionables did suddenly so many witches deem it necessary to swamp me with Howlers?

Daphne had noticed my confusion. 'Something wrong, Harry?' she asked, and I handed her the list. Reading it, she looked as puzzled as I felt.

We found out what was going on when I opened the letter from Kingsley. The "Daily Prophet" from the previous day fell out and landed on the floor.

Daphne bent down and picked it up. She began to hand it over to me, but stopped midway, staring down on the paper.

"Well, you can say the cat is out of the bag,' she finally said and gave me the paper.

The headline couldn't be overlooked. Neither could the gallery of photos that illustrated the article and showed Daphne and I during our days in Sydney.

Daphne and I shared a look. Then we sat down on the sofa to read the newspaper together.

 _ **THE CHOSEN ONE HAS CHOSEN HIS CHOSEN ONE!**_

the headline screamed.

'How trite can they get? Really!' Daphne giggled, albeit her cheeks pinked a little.

I looked for the author of the article and promptly found the name I had apprehended. _Rita Skeeter._ 'Who else?' I groaned. 'That woman really is a pain in the arse!'

Though, to call that newest piece of thrash from her a newspaper article was highly exaggerated. It consisted of lots of photos with simple captions. With a deep sigh, I began to read.

 _This reporter was on a well deserved vacation in Australia and visiting the City of Sydney, when one of these dangerous contraptions the Muggles use to travel over the water caught her eyes. You can imagine my surprise, dear readers, when I discovered that no one else than the Boy-Who-Lived stood on a small balcony, dangerously high above the waterline and only prevented from falling to his death by a low railing. But he was not alone. Leaning scandalously close against him was a young, blonde woman._

That part of the article was illustrated with a photo of Daphne and I as we leaned against the railing of the veranda of our suite the morning the "Princess Isabella" reached Sydney Harbour.

 _ **Chosen One and his new love interest!**_

screamed the caption. Beneath came the next photo of Daphne and I that showed us on the ferry to the zoo. Daphne leaned against me and I had my arm around her shoulder. Then she pointed out something in the distance, and we looked at each other and both smiled.

 _ **The happy couple on their way to a day out in Sydney! They couldn't keep their hands off each other!**_

the caption under this photo read. I shifted in my seat. The room was becoming uncomfortable hot all of a sudden. As much as the article vexed me, by the looks of the both of us on that photo I couldn't blame Skeeter for the conclusions she'd drawn. We _did_ look rather intimate with each other.

I ventured a side glance at Daphne. She looked down on the photo, that odd little smile I'd noticed on her quite often during the last two weeks playing around her lips again.

My eyes moved to the next photos. This time they'd printed two photos of us side by side. The first photo showed me, as I frowned over my shoulder at the adventurous emu that pecked at my behind, while Daphne, obviously shaking with laughter, took photo after photo. The second photo showed us when I got my revenge on Daphne as the wallaby stuck its nose in her blouse.

 _ **The lovers having fun with Australia's dangerous animals!**_

this caption said.

Daphne grinned at me. 'So much for your blackmail material, Harry. I'd say it's pretty worthless, now that it's been printed in the "Daily Prophet".'

I didn't deign that an answer, which had her giggle.

The next photo showed both of us on the terrace of the zoo, as Daphne fed me a spoonful of her cake.

 _ **It's heart-warming to see how tender they are with each other!**_

This time, I didn't dare look at Daphne. I was sure my face had gone a spectacular Weasley red when I read that caption. Hoping it wouldn't get worse, I looked at the next photo.

It showed Daphne and I sitting on the bench in the Royal Botanical Garden. She leaned her head at my shoulder, and I had my arm around her. Thankfully, her face was hidden by her long hair, because I was sure she'd been crying then. Then Daphne raised her head, smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

 _ **Taking a rest after a long morning of sightseeing!**_

Was written underneath that photo. It occurred to me that Skeeter must have followed every of our steps that day in Sydney, and I blanched. Given how backwards the British magical community still was, I didn't dare to imagine how they'd react to a photo of a topless Daphne. My eyes searched for the next photo, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it showed Daphne and I leaning against the railing of the veranda when the "Princess Isabella" left Sydney. The permanent repetition of the photo had us clinking our glasses over and over again.

 _ **The "Daily Prophet" wishes the handsome couple the best for their future!**_

Beside that the article was rather embarrassing, it could have been worse, I mused, considering Skeeters inherent mean streak.

'She must have lost track of us when we took the taxi to Bondi Beach,' Daphne's voice interrupted my thoughts.

'Yeah, thank Merlin for little blessings,' I agreed. Then I mock-glared at her. 'Though, it would have served you right for the trick you played on me!'

'Why, didn't you like what you saw, Harry?' she purred.

This was one of those questions a guy couldn't answer without getting into trouble, so I only harrumphed and read the conclusion of the article.

 _We all remember the long line of heartbreaks the Chosen One had to endure since he came back into the magical world. There was his long time love interest, Muggleborn Hermione Granger, who dumped him in favour of the international star seeker Victor Krum. The exotic beauty Miss Parvati Patil, his date for the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament, is reported to have left him during the ball and was seen dancing with other men._

I had a good laugh at that. 'Poor Parvati! I treated her horrible that night. She really can't be blamed that she left me and looked for better company.'

'You were mean to her,' Daphne agreed. 'I remember that Tracey and I actually were glad that you hadn't asked either of us to be your date when we saw how you treated her.'

'I guess I'll have to make it up to her one of these days,' I remarked.

'You'll probably get your chance for that sooner than you think possible,' Daphne replied. 'Didn't Minister Shacklebolt write something about a ball to honour the veterans of the Battle of Hogwarts at the end of the Memorial Week in May?'

I had forgotten about that. Kingsley had been adamant that I had to attend to that ball and wrote me in advance to make sure I'd be free on the intended day and that I'd get myself a date for the ball. Resigning to the inevitable, I'd already written back and confirmed the day and assured him that I had a date. I was sure Daphne wouldn't let me down when I asked her.

'Do you think she'll forgive me if I ask her for a dance then?' I grinned.

'That depends on your skills in the ballroom. Considering the impending Ministry Ball, I'm sure you're happy to hear there's a ball the day after tomorrow and will gladly take me there to hone your skills.' Her Cheshire-cat-grin almost split her face in half.

'I barely can contain my excitement,' I deadpanned and continued reading the article, while Daphne chuckled quietly to herself.

 _Miss Patil was replaced by the even more exotic beauty Miss Cho Chang, who is rumoured to have exploited the feelings of the lonesome young hero while she was still pining for her lost love Cedric Diggory, who was killed by You-Know-Who at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, as we know now._

 _After Miss Chang followed Looney Lovegood, who also left the Hero-of-the-Wizarding-World and was seen holding hands with Mr Dennis Thomas, a Gryffindor and close friend of the Chosen One, after the Battle of Hogwarts._

'I hate it when people make fun of Luna,' I growled.

Daphne looked up from the paper. 'You have to admit she is a little peculiar,' she replied.

'Yeah, but that doesn't give people the right to make fun of her and call her Looney Lovegood. She's a wonderful friend and the sweetest and most honest person you can imagine if you get to know her closer. She's also very observant, though she's got a weird way to talk about her observations.'

'I take your word on that,' Daphne replied. 'Maybe you can introduce me to her one day.'

'I will,' I promised.

 _Though our young hero got pretty close with Miss Fleur Delacour during the Triwizard Tournament, she also left him and married Bill (Bilius) Weasley, oldest son of Arthur Weasley, newly appointed Secretary for Muggle Relations, and his wife Molly, nee Prewitt._

'It's good to see Kingsley finally gave Mr Weasley the promotion he deserved,' I remarked.

Daphne scrunched up her nose, and I stiffened. This was one of those moments when I was reminded that our backgrounds were vastly different and that we didn't agree on all aspects of Kingsley's agenda. 'You don't agree?' I asked, carefully keeping my voice neutral.

She raised her head from the article and looked me in the eyes. 'I don't know,' she began haltingly. 'From what you told me about him, I'm sure he's a very nice man. But I've also heard from my father about his almost childlike obsession with anything Muggle. I'm sorry to say that about a man you hold in high esteem, Harry, but I always valued my father's opinion and I can't help doubting Mr Weasley's professionalism because of that. Also, I'm not sure how the Wizengamot will react to Minister Shacklebolt's creation of that new department in the long run.'

I considered her point of view. Fairness demanded that I had to admit that her doubts of Mr Weasley's professionalism were justified. Heck, even his family made fun of his obsession with plugs. What did I really know about Arthur Weasley's qualifications beside the fact that he was well liked by many non-corrupt Ministry employees and that his wife told me that he'd declined former promotions in order to do a job he loved? The latter could be true or not, I had no means to tell. While my prudent and calculating inner Slytherin told me she had a point, my Gryffindor side took offense at the slight against one of my oldest allies.

She must have realised my conflict, for she put her hand on my arm and said, 'Look, Harry, I promised you to help you to push through Minister Shacklebolt's anti corruption agenda. But I also told you I probably wouldn't agree on everything with you. We have become friends, Harry, but that doesn't mean I'll give up my own opinion. So, let's agree to disagree for the time being. Time will tell who's been right.'

'All right,' I agreed. I took a moment to collect myself and then read the last paragraph.

 _Last on the list is Miss Virginia Weasley, youngest daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley. This relationship is reported to have been the longest our young hero ever had, but it was also doomed to fail as the Hero-of-the-Wizarding-World set out to meet his destiny._

 _For more about the Chosen One and his fight against You-Know-Who see pages 3, 14 and 16._

 _For more about Hermione Granger see pages 5, 12 and 13._

 _For more about Parvati Patil see pages 11 an 14._

 _For more about Looney Lovegood see pages 7 and 9._

 _For more about Fleur Weasley nee Delacour see pages 6 and 12._

 _For more about Cho Chang see pages 10 and 27._

 _For more about Virginia Weasley see pages 4, 9 and 13._

I was just about to fold the paper and put it away safely so that the crew members who cleaned our suite wouldn't find it, when another thought hit me.

'How is it that Skeeter doesn't know you?' I asked. I'd have thought that Daphne, coming from a prominent Pureblood family, was well known by the press.

Daphne smiled and explained another Pureblood tradition to me. 'It's because I have not yet had my debut in Pureblood circles.'

'Your what?' I suppose I looked as clueless as I felt.

'Young witches are kept out of sight until they finish their Hogwarts education or marry, whichever comes sooner. They are presented to the Pureblood society at one of the many debutante balls that take place from September to December, either as a young girl still looking for an eligible husband, or as a young bride. However, since I haven't yet had my debut, I'm unknown to the members of the press. Mum and Dad always took great pains to keep me away from the limelight while I was at school. I should have had my debut last September, after I'd finished school, but of course it never came to that.'

Again, the haunted and lonesome look appeared in her eyes, as always when she thought of her parents.

I put my arm around her shoulder and hugged her.

She gave me an unsteady smile, but then squared her shoulders.

I squeezed her shoulder once more and pulled my arm away. 'So, the balls here on the ship are also an exercise for you?' I asked.

Daphne looked surprised. 'I hadn't thought about that. But when you put it that way, you're probably right.'

I looked at the paper in my hand, and then at the young woman in front of me. 'Look, Daphne, I'm sorry for that article. I hope there won't be any bad repercussions for you because of it.'

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. 'Don't worry about that! I don't think I'll have to worry much because of the article. Maybe a stray Howler or two from disappointed witches, as soon as they find out my name. It's a good thing that you asked the Goblins to key me into your Banishing Box for the duration of the cruise. I shudder to think the ship will be attacked by a flock of owls, all carrying Howlers.'

She grinned at her last statement, but I blanched. 'So much for the Statute of Secrecy!' Again, I looked at the headline. 'That article is extremely tame for Skeeter. I'm surprised she slandered neither you nor me. Just the contrary, she was pretty supportive of what she thinks is my new relationship.' I blushed at my last words.

Daphne gave me a shrewd side glance. 'Harry, in the current political climate it would be professional suicide for her to try again what she did with you in our fourth year and after that. Also, I've heard a rumour that you have dirt on her.'

She let her last words hang in the air.

'Hermione has,' I grinned. 'Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus in the form of a beetle. Though, I never once noticed a beetle around us during our days in Sydney.'

'She must have kept her distance because she knew you'd recognise her Animagus,' Daphne observed. 'Just look at the photos. They are all taken from some distance, which confirms my assumption.' She put a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled at me. 'Thanks for telling me about her Animagus form, Harry. Now I know for what I'll have to look out for.'

HP -DG

'I can't believe it that half of the cruise is already over,' I said to Daphne when we met before dinner in the living room in the evening.

'Time flies when you're having fun,' she replied.

The cruise company had invited all passengers who'd booked the world cruise to a barbeque and dance that night. It was going to be a casual affair, and we'd dressed accordingly. Daphne wore an open blouse dyed in different shades of turquoise, blue and emerald over a top with spaghetti straps and white chinois. Her hair was put into a French braid that hung down over one shoulder.

'You look great,' I complimented her, and she pinked a little.

I grabbed her hand and led her out of the suite. The barbecue took place around the pool. Long tables with benches had been put up around the pool, with room enough for a dancefloor and the DJ and his equipment. The tables were decorated with flags from all the countries we visited, and looked rather festive. Stewards with tablets in their hands served cocktails. It was amazing how many of the passengers on board had booked the world cruise. There was quite a crowd assembled around the pool, and they all were ready to party.

Of course, the Meehans were already there, and we took our seats opposite of them.

'I can't believe our cruise is already half over!' Alvirah echoed my words when we sat down.

Immediately, cocktails were placed in front of Daphne and I.

'Unbelievable, isn't it?' Daphne nodded. 'We've seen so much, and there are some incredible destinations yet to come! I'm really looking forward to visit the Seychelles and Mauritius!'

'Of course you'd say that,' I grinned and took some of the peanuts from the bowl in front of me. 'All you need is a beach, the ocean and sunshine and you're happy.'

She bumped her shoulder with mine. 'See? I'm easy to please!' she grinned, and everybody laughed.

'I'm looking forward to seeing Kyoto and Hiroshima,' Willy said in his quiet way. 'What are you looking forward to for the second half of the cruise, Harry?'

'I think Capetown will be cool,' I replied. 'I've heard you can dive with white sharks there!'

Alvirah shuddered at that, and Daphne looked slightly alarmed.

'You're not really planning on something that crazy, Harry, are you?' she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and grinned.

She regarded me with a look of horror. 'Just for the record, I'm not going with you on such a trip!'

'Aw, Daphne, you're no fun!' I whined, and everybody laughed.

Alvirah raised her cocktail glass. 'Here's to an eventful and safe second half of our cruise!'

We all responded to the toast. Little did Daphne and I know then how eventful the next weeks of the cruise would be for us.

HP – DG

As all horror stories, it started harmless enough.

The next evening, we met in the living room before dinner time, dressed in our finest for the ball. I have to admit my jaw probably hit the floor when Daphne entered the room. She wore a floor-length dress made of ice-blue satin. The bodice hugged her figure like a second skin and was held up by spaghetti straps made of crystal beads. The skirt flared out gracefully from her hips down and was embellished by floral motives made of the same crystal beads as the spaghetti straps. She'd curled her hair slightly and left it open, only held back by silver combs, and she wore no jewels, except for small diamond studs in her ears, and only minimal make up. Her beauty didn't need these embellishments. She was absolutely breath-taking.

"How do I look?' she asked and whirled around in front of me, her long skirt flaring.

'Absolutely gorgeous,' I said, when I finally found my voice again, though it sounded rather hoarse.

Our eyes met, and she turned slightly pink. 'Thank you, Harry!'

I held out my arm to her and we went down to the restaurant for dinner. I swear almost every male head turned around when Daphne passed them. Those who didn't look were either blind or gay.

Dinner was a huge affair, as always on ball nights, and it was already late when we finally entered the theatre that also served as the ballroom. It was the first time we went into the theatre, and I have to admit I was overwhelmed by the opulence of the place.

The band sat in a niche beside the stage, and the stage and a semi-circular parquetted floor in front of it was used as the dancefloor. The rest of the room was laid out with a thick, red and gold carpet. Several levels with lots of small tables and upholstered chairs arranged in rows that faced the stage wrapped around the dancefloor. Each table was meant to seat two or four people. Above us was a gilded balcony with even more tables. Along the side of the room stretched a well-stocked bar, and stewards were already catering to the guests that eventually filled the tables, with champagne obviously being the drink of the evening.

The band started with a Viennese waltz, and I felt very nervous when I led Daphne onto the dancefloor. But my nervousness soon vanished when I looked into her beaming face, and I began to enjoy the feeling of having her in my arms and close to me.

The dance ended much too soon. While Daphne and I slowly walked around the room, Alvirah waved at us from one of the many small tables. We weaved our way through the crowd to meet with our friends.

'Daphne, Harry, I didn't expect to see you here! This must be the first time you're attending one of the balls!' Alvirah exclaimed when we sat down at their table.

Daphne looked uncomfortable, so I said, 'Daphne wasn't really up to it until now.'

'Oh, sorry, how insensitive of me!' Alvirah said and turned red. Daphne had told her about the loss of her parents a few weeks ago. 'I really should learn to think before I talk!' She put her hand on Daphne's arm. 'Though I'm sure your parents will be delighted to see that you enjoy yourself dancing with a handsome young man when they look down on you.'

Daphne blushed at that, but had to smile. We had a glass of champagne with the Meehans, and then we went back to the dancefloor, though this time Daphne danced with Willy and I asked Alvirah to dance with me. Unfortunately, that was the sign for the many elderly ladies we'd met on board to trade me between them as their dancing tool, since most of them were either single or their spouses were too lazy to dance.

Daphne waved merrily at me when the first lady dragged me on the dancefloor. Together with Alvirah she followed every single of my steps. Apparently, both of them had a field day doing so, judging by the way they laughed and stuck their heads together over another glass of champagne.

I'd lost count with how many ladies I danced until Daphne finally showed mercy and claimed me back.

'Do you enjoy yourself, Harry?' she giggled while I led her over the dancefloor in a slow waltz.

'Not until now,' I grumbled. 'I wasn't prepared for playing the dance escort for every single lady on board!'

That had her laugh. 'Poor boy!' she crooned, though her voice suspiciously lacked of any trace of sympathy. 'Get used to it. That's what you're expected to do at the Ministry balls. In order to get the additional votes you want to support Minister Shacklebolt, you need to soften up the inhabitants of the seats, and there's no better way to approach them than through their wives. Most of the old codgers are pretty whipped, you know.'

I snorted at that. 'All right, I bow to your superior knowledge of the political circles, Daphne. But you have to promise to make my task bearable by dancing with me every now and then on these balls!'

She scrunched up her nose as if deep in thought. 'I think I can fit you in between charming the old codgers,' she conceded.

'Gosh, you've got a knack for showing me where my place is, don't you?' I laughed while I whirled her around.

'Don't you forget it, Potter!' she grinned.

I was parched, so we went to the bar after that dance. While I opted for a soda, Daphne had another glass of champagne, which she raised to me with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes and then downed most of it in one gulp.

'How many of these did you have tonight?' I asked, nodding towards the glass in her hand.

She shrugged her shoulders and giggled. 'I don't know. I didn't count. It's deliciously cold and it tastes nice.'

I easily believed her that she'd lost count. It showed by her flushed face, the sparkle in her eyes and the giggles that were constantly bubbling up whenever we talked.

She gave me a teasing smile. 'You should try it, Harry! Might loosen you up a trifle.' She grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the dancefloor. 'Are you finished with your drink? Because for the rest of the night you're mine! I want to dance some more with my handsome date!' The smile she flashed me over her shoulder made me hold my breath. This slightly tipsy, flirtatious Daphne was a new side of her, and I liked it immensely.

For the rest of the evening Daphne refused to leave the dancefloor, except for a quick glass of champagne at the bar. I didn't mind, it was more fun than I ever expected to spend the night dancing with a beautiful girl in my arms.

'I think I've got enough of ballroom dancing,' Daphne announced shortly after midnight.

'Do you want to return to the suite?' I asked.

'Dream on, Potter,' she grinned and grabbed my hand. Laughing, I let her drag me out of the theatre and towards the elevators. Though, I was not surprised when she hit the bottom for deck eight and the dance club.

'Come on, Harry, let's the party begin!' she giggled when we reached the club.

The club was crowded and the air was hot and stuffy and smelled of the many different perfumes of the ladies. It was dark, but the clavilux cast a staccato of lights on the twitching dancers on the packed dancefloor. Daphne lost no time to drag me into the midst of the fray.

Because of the average age of the passengers of the "Princess Isabella", the DJ didn't play the latest music, but a rather danceable mix of the most popular music of the sixties, seventies and eighties. Due to my aunt and uncle's abhorrence of "new-fangled nonsense", I'd grown up with the older pieces, and actually enjoyed myself dancing to the familiar tunes, though admittedly I had much more fun watching Daphne.

She really was a sight worth looking at. I'd already known that she was proficient at ballroom dancing, but watching her lithe body move to the music without the restraints of formal dance movements was something else. I felt uncomfortably hot, and that wasn't due to the crowded room.

I don't know how long we danced like that, until the DJ finally played a rather slow piece. Daphne snuggled up to me and put her arms around my neck. With a contend sigh, she leaned her head against my shoulder. I put my arms around her and held her close. If I'd had my way, the music would've never ended, but of course it had to come to an end much sooner than I liked.

Daphne raised her head and looked me in the eyes. She licked her lips and said, 'I think I've had enough for tonight, Harry.'

I nodded and took her hand. We weaved our way through the crowded club until we reached the door. Outside, the warm air of the tropical night seemed cold, compared to the hot, stuffy club, and Daphne shivered. I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, and felt how her arm slid around my waist as I did so. We spurned the elevator and took the two flights of stairs from deck eight to deck ten.

When we reached our suite, Daphne led me out onto the veranda. No matter how late in the night we returned from the public rooms, it had become a ritual for us to settle down on the veranda and talk for a while. Side by side we stood at the railing and looked out onto the dark ocean, still one arm around each other.

I knew we were on a ship with hundreds of passengers and almost as much crew members. Below our feet was the bridge, which was well manned day and night. But as we stood there, it felt as if there were only Daphne and I on a ship in the middle of the ocean .

I looked down on her blonde locks, the same moment as she raised her head to look at me. Her pink lips shimmered in the dim light, and there was a sparkle deep in her eyes that beckoned me towards her. Before I knew what I was doing I bent down and our lips touched.

I'd kissed girls before, but nothing had prepared me for the experience of kissing Daphne. Until today I can't find the proper words to describe it. Every coherent thought went straight out of my head and my body felt as if it was on fire. All that mattered was the feeling of her soft lips on mine. When she slung her arms around my neck, pulling me as close to her as possible, and deepened the kiss with a soft moan, I felt as if I'd at last found what I'd been looking for without knowing it all my life long.

When we finally parted, Daphne kept her arms around my neck and looked up at me. The light in her eyes almost blinded me. There was tenderness, desire and an overwhelming trust, telling me she was ready to follow me to the abyss and back if I'd asked her. There was also something else in her eyes I couldn't identify, which elated me and made me want to take on the whole world for her, but nevertheless terrified me, and I shivered.

I'd done nothing to deserve her devotion, I reminded myself. I'd happened to be there when she was at her most vulnerable, isolated from her world and in dire need of a friend. That was my only claim to her affection. She'd get over it soon enough when she met other wizards. Not to mention that she'd had a drink too many tonight. Merlin, I was a son of a bitch to exploit her feelings like that!

I raised my hands and gently pulled her arms off me. 'I'm sorry, Daphne. It won't happen again.'

The light vanished as sudden from her eyes as if I'd blown out a candle. 'But, Harry ...!' she began.

I put a finger on her lips. 'You're tipsy, Daphne. Let's sleep over this one night and talk tomorrow, all right?'

She nodded, but didn't look me in the eyes.

I turned around and went in my bedroom. It was way after midnight, but sleep failed to claim me that night.

HP – DG

I must have dozed off at some point. When I woke up the next morning, the bright sunlight pouring through the curtains told me it was already in the middle of the morning. I must have slept without moving much, because my muscles felt stiff and I had a kink in the neck. I listened, but in the living room everything was still quiet, a sure sign that Daphne was still asleep.

I went in the bathroom and took a long shower to loosen up my stiff muscles. After I 'd dressed, I cautiously opened the door to the living room, lest not to wake Daphne.

To my amazement, the room was empty and already put back to order. I hadn't heard the room service coming into our suite and realised I must have slept deeper than I thought. Daphne was on the veranda. She sat cross-legged on the sun island, both of her hands wrapped around a cup of tea and looked onto the see. She was dressed casually in jog pants and a loose t-shirt and obviously lost deep in thought.

I looked at the watch on the wall. The "Princess Isabella" was scheduled to reach Okinawa in an hour. Daphne and I hadn't booked one of the offered tours, but instead decided to explore the city by taxi and on foot. It wasn't like Daphne to venture into public in such casual clothes.

She hadn't noticed me through the huge windows yet. I squared my shoulders, hoping she'd not be too angry at me because I took advantage of her last night, and stepped out onto the veranda.

'Good morning, Daphne,' I greeted, and was proud that my voice betrayed nothing of my inner turmoil.

'Good morning,' she replied quietly, but didn't turn her head around to look at me.

I sat down on one of the deckchairs instead of joining her on the sun island, as I normally would have done. Something in her posture discouraged me from our usual familiarity, and besides that I still had a bad conscience because of last night and didn't want to impose myself on her. For the first time since we stayed together I had to rack my brain to come up with something to talk about. Usually, we'd talk about everything that came to our minds, from Ministry politics to the Quidditch results in the "Daily Prophet", and from important events in our lives to the weather report. We'd also never had problems to be comfortable with each other not talking. But today, nothing felt right.

'Are you ready for our trip to Okinawa?' I finally asked.

She shook her head, still not looking at me. 'I'm not feeling well, Harry. I think I'd better stay on board today. Do you mind going alone?'

I was alarmed. 'Do you need to see the doctor? Shall I take you to the hospital?'

Again, she shook her head, but still avoided looking at me. 'Thank you, Harry. That's sweet of you, but not necessary. I just have a rather mean headache.'

That wasn't surprising, considering the numbers of glasses of champagne she'd had last night, and I relaxed. 'I'll stay with you if you like,' I offered.

For the third time she shook her head. 'Thank you, but if you don't mind, I'd like to have some time of my own today to get back to order. Maybe I'll lay down as soon as you've left.'

I was hurt, but didn't object. We 'd been in close proximity for almost nine weeks. I couldn't deny her some space if she asked for it. 'All right,' I agreed and stood up. 'I'll see if I can still get some breakfast at the Lido cafe before we reach Okinawa. Get well soon, Daphne.'

'Thank you, Harry. Have a nice day!' she replied.

It wasn't until I'd left the suite and was on my way to the elevator that I realised that she hadn't looked at me once.

HP – DG

My day in Okinawa was a far cry from being nice. I hired a taxi with a driver who thankfully spoke English to drive me to the sights, but it was no fun without Daphne, and I was glad when I was back on the "Princess Isabella". A look on my wristwatch told me that it was probably still too soon to return to our suite if I didn't want to disturb Daphne in her sleep, so I went to the sports bar to have a sandwich and watch some sports.

As always on land days, the accommodations on board were sparsely populated. A few patrons sat at the bar, watching a football game of the German Bundesliga. The tables were almost all empty, except for a small table at the side of the room, from where Willy Meehan waved to me.

'Hello Harry! Where is Daphne?' he greeted me as I walked over to him.

'Daphne's not feeling well and told me to go out alone today,' I explained.

Willy chuckled. 'Too much champagne, I guess? Alvirah is still in bed, curing her hangover, though she prefers to call it a migraine!'

We both laughed at that and he invited me to sit down and have a late lunch with him.

As always, hanging around with Willy was relaxing, despite the age difference. He was not one for many words, but whenever he opened his mouth, he showed a sharp mind and a wicked sense of humour. We munched our sandwiches in companionable silence, watching the game on TV and both trying to guess the meaning of the comments of the obviously German patrons at the bar, that got more heated and probably also colourful as the game progressed.

Willy excused himself soon after lunch, and I decided that it was safe to return to the suite. By now, Daphne should have had time enough to sleep off her hangover – uh - headache.

But when I tiptoed into our suite, I found her sleeping on the sofa. She really looked pale, so I took my mystery novel off the sideboard and went out on the veranda, where I made myself comfortable on the sun island.

Daphne didn't stir for another two hours. When she came out, she was still looking that pale that I was seriously concerned. 'Are you sure you don't need a doctor?' I asked and put my book down in my lap.

'Yes, I am! I'm not going to let a Muggle doctor mess with me and stick a needle into me if I can help it!' she snapped at me, sitting down on the desk chair farthest from me and crossing her arms before her chest. She still didn't look at me.

Daphne usually was pretty even tempered and had never snapped at me before. My heart sank in the pit of my stomach. Obviously, she was angry at me that I'd taken advantage of her inebriated state last night. There was only one way out of it. I had to clear the air immediately.

'Look, Daphne, about last night. I'm really sorry ...' But she didn't let me finish my sentence.

'It's all right, Harry. I understand. No need to be sorry, really!' she interrupted me. But she still didn't look at me.

'Well, if you say so ...' My voice trailed off. Something in her demeanour told me that we were far from being all right, but obviously she didn't want to talk about it. That was a first. It was always Daphne who encouraged me to talk about the things that were bugging me. Why she didn't heed to her own advice when she was clearly upset, was beyond me. But I'm the first to admit that I'm pants with girls, so I decided to respect her wish and not to talk about last night.

An uncomfortable silence settled down between us. Daphne still avoided my eyes and instead preferred to glare a hole into the wall of the cruise terminal of Okinawa.

With an inward sigh I picked up my novel and tried to read the next chapter, but the words refused to form themselves into readable sentences before my eyes. At least staring at the pages in front of me helped me avoiding to look at Daphne and to reveal how miserable our suddenly dried up communication made me.

We still sat like that when the butler appeared with champagne and pralines.

Daphne shuddered when I offered her a glass of champagne.

'I've been told in case of a hangover you should start the next day with what you'd had last the evening before,' I remarked and held the glass under her nose.

'Is that a Muggle cure? I'd rather have some hangover potion!' she grumbled, but nevertheless took the glass from me.

There must be something right about the Muggle advice, because some colour returned into her cheeks after a few sips. However, she left the all of the delicious pralines for me, not that I complained, and when it was time for dinner, she declined.

For the second time that day I went out all by myself and didn't like it one bit. When I returned to our suite, Daphne was already asleep, so I took my novel and retreated to my bedroom.

It had been a lousy day.

HP – DG

The next day wasn't any better. Daphne opted out of our morning swim, claiming that she still wasn't feeling well. At breakfast, she was pale and withdrawn and hardly spoke a word.

She went on like that for the rest of the day. I could see that she was miserable, but she still refused to talk to me.

The day after that brought another highlight of the cruise, a trip to Kyoto. I hoped that the famous Japanese gardens would pique Daphne's interest and bring back some of her vivacity, which I sorely missed.

But there was no luck. It was as if the Daphne I knew and had fallen for was gone and had left only an empty shell behind. Though she meanwhile could look at me again, she painfully avoided to touch me. I didn't realise how much I'd relished our closeness until I was deprived of it.

Three more days of misery followed. Daphne declined to accompany me on the tours at Kagoshima and Busan, so I went alone. But if someone had asked me what I saw, I wouldn't have been able to tell.

The evening before we reached Hiroshima she finally talked to me. We'd been for dinner at the main restaurant and returned early to our suite, neither of us in the mood for the evening entertainment.

We entered the living room, and Daphne sat down on the sofa, while I still stood in the doorway, not knowing if I should keep her company or retreat to my bedroom.

'I've written to the Ministry for a Portkey back to London,' she told me quietly.

It felt as if a troll had hit me square in the gut with its club. The air was pressed out of my lungs, and I had difficulties to breathe. 'Why?' I asked when I finally caught some air.

She'd turned to the window and didn't look at me – again. 'Harry, we've had a wonderful time. You've helped me to overcome the loss of my parents. But now it's time for me to move on and stand on my own feet. I can't rely on you forever.'

I wouldn't have minded if she did just that. Suddenly, the thought of taking care of her and making her smile for the rest of my life sounded very appealing. I opened my mouth to tell her just that, but the right words never came out. Instead, I asked, 'When?' My voice sounded as if it didn't belong to me.

'The day after tomorrow, I think,' she replied quietly.

There was nothing more left to say. I went into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. When I sat down on the edge of my bed, I asked myself how on earth my life had gone to hell within a couple of days.

HP – DG

The next day we reached Hiroshima. I wasn't in the mood to join one of the excursions and stayed on board, watching Daphne how she collected her things that had somehow spread themselves across the suite and packed.

We barely spoke a word together that day.

The Portkey arrived through my Banishing Box in the afternoon. It was a broken quill, and I was sorely tempted to throw it over board when I took it out of the box, but Daphne took it out of my hand and stashed it away.

I didn't sleep a wink that night and was up before dawn the next morning.

Daphne was also already awake and dressed when I entered the living room. She sat on the sofa, her head in her hands, but looked up when I entered the room. 'Good morning, Harry. I didn't think you'd be up in time to see me off.' She was unnaturally pale, and there were smudges around her eyes, as if she also didn't sleep last night.

 _Wouldn't have missed it for the world_ somehow sounded like the wrong thing to say, so I just shrugged and asked, 'When is the Portkey due?'

The damned thing lay in front of her on the coffee table.

Daphne looked at her watch. 'In three minutes.'

There was still time enough. If I grabbed the quill and made a dash for the veranda, I could throw it over board before it activated ... But no, she wanted this, and I had no right to tell her what she should do or not. 'Where are you staying?' I asked instead. 'Just in case you forgot something and I'll have to send it to you.'

'I've written Tom and booked a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the next two weeks,' she replied. 'I hope I'll have found an apartment after that. I'll let you know where I'll be staying.'

I nodded. Maybe she would, maybe not. I wasn't sure about that anymore. Our relationship had gone in a shamble that fast.

Silence stretched out between us, until Daphne looked at her watch again and then stood up. 'It's time,' she said and grabbed the quill.

My heart raced. This couldn't be true. I was in a nightmare and surely would wake up any moment, and Daphne would stand in the doorframe of my bedroom, ready for our morning swim, and call me a lazybones ...

'Do you have everything?' I asked.

She nodded. 'My trunks are shrunken and in my pocket. Don't worry, Harry, I'll manage. And Harry ...' Her voice trailed off.

'What?'

'Thank you – for everything. In spite of how it started, these last weeks were the best time I ever had,' she said quietly.

I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw a tear rolling down her cheek. The next second, the Portkey glowed blue and she was gone.

 **Author's notes: I solemny swear I will update. Mischief managed. ;)**


	5. From Hiroshima to Hong Kong

05 From Hiroshima to Hong Kong

She was gone.

I stared at the spot from where Daphne had disappeared only seconds ago and couldn't fathom it. My brain had shut down and refused to cooperate.

I sunk down on the sofa and leaned back. My head touched the backrest, and I caught a whiff of the scent of her hair that still lingered in the cushions. It made me feel even worse.

Until today I don't know how I survived the following days. I thought I knew what grief and longing meant. I had spent two summers of grief and self-loathing after first Cedric and then Sirius died, and I'd spent every night when I was on the run pining for Ginny.

I knew nothing.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for the emptiness and hurt I felt after Daphne had left me. It was a physical pain, strong enough to make me almost immobile. I needed every ounce of strength I had to get me out of bed in the morning, and getting showered and dressed was a challenge I hardly mastered. The mere thought of food nauseated me, and I lived of tea and dry toast. My days were spent curled up on the sofa. At night I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to sleep, until exhaustion overcame me and I fell in a fitful slumber, only to wake up from a nightmare minutes later. The letters in my Banishing Box piled up. I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.

On the third day I was startled out of my misery by a persistent knock on the door of the suite.

'Harry, I know that you are in there, so you'd better open!' Alvirah's voice called.

I dragged myself toward the door and opened.

'Heavens, you look awful!' she greeted me. She took me by the arm and led me back into the living room. There she sat down on the sofa and pulled me down to sit beside her.

'You don't have to tell me about Daphne. The cruise director mentioned that she had to leave in Hiroshima because she had to tend to her family business. But when you also disappeared, Willy and I got worried.' She gave me an appraising look. 'You look like shit, Harry! I don't buy that family business story! You've had a quarrel and she ran away, didn't she?'

I looked in her sympathetic brown eyes and gulped. Alvirah was a warm-hearted person. From the day we'd met her, she'd shown nothing but friendliness and genuine interest to Daphne and I. Before I knew what happened, I poured my heart out to her.

Alvirah listened without a comment. When I finished, she regarded me with an almost amused smile in her eyes. 'Ah yes, you're both still very young. Willy and I also used to be that young and dumb, some forty years ago, and it caused us a lot of pain and heartache. But we got over it and are happily married for almost forty years, and I see no reason why you and Daphne shouldn't become as happy!'

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed with frustration. 'That's easier said than done! I wish I knew what to do!'

Alvirah actually laughed at that. 'Go after her, of course, and shake some sense into her head! Then grab her by the shoulders and kiss her senseless, that's what she wanted from you all along, Harry!'

'But ...!'

'There's no but, Harry! Really, I'm almost cross with you! If a girl looks at you as if you've just given her the moon and all the stars on top after you've kissed her for the first time, you don't pull back and say you're sorry!'

'You think she isn't angry at me because I took advantage of her?' I asked, not yet trusting her advice.

'Just the contrary, I'm sure she feels rejected and avoids you because you didn't take advantage of what was offered to you, Harry!' Alvirah chuckled. She got up to her feet and looked down at me with a soft smile. 'If you want my advice, you'll pick up that phone and order a plane ticket from Shanghai to London, go grab Daphne and return with her in time to join us in Hong Kong for the remainder of the cruise!' She waved at me and went to the door.

Too overwhelmed for words I just gaped after her. I startled out of my paralysation when the door closed behind her.

Her advice was sound, I had to admit. After all, I hadn't anything to lose. It couldn't get worse. For the first time in days, I felt something like hope. I went to the desk and wrote a letter to the Ministry, ordering a couple of Portkeys.

HP – DG

The morning we reached Shanghai, I was a nervous wreck. I'd been up well before dawn, showered and dressed, and ordered some tea. As soon as the "Princess Isabella" was tied to the pier of the cruise terminal and we were allowed to leave the ship, I walked from board. I'd told the staff that I'd also had been called back to London for business reasons and would likely return in three days, when the "Princess Isabella" reached Hong Kong. I'd packed a small suitcase with enough clothes to last me until then. A surreptitiously cast Confounding Hex made the staff think I'd taken a taxi to the airport. Instead, I slipped into the men's restroom of the cruise terminal, shrunk my luggage to fit into my pocket and activated the Portkey to the "Leaky Cauldron" that had arrived yesterday.

I still wasn't fond of the feeling of being jerked behind my navel and spun through the void, but in my impatience to get to Daphne, I didn't care and promptly landed on my arse when the Portkey finally dumped me in the taproom of the "Leaky Cauldron".

To my amazement, the room was dark and empty, only illuminated by the light of the streetlamps on Charing Cross Street that shone through the dirty window panes. I hadn't considered the time difference between Shanghai and London. While it was early morning in Shanghai, it was still in the middle of the night in London. I scratched the back of my head with my hand, while I inhaled the aroma of stale, cold smoke and Butterbeer in a sigh of frustration. I'd counted on Tom being in the taproom and telling me in which room Daphne stayed. I couldn't try every doorknob until I finally found her room, could I?

A sudden feeling of recklessness overcame me. Hell, why not? I'd come to London to find Daphne, and find I would her, no matter how. I ran up the impressing stairs that led to Tom's guest rooms.

From my stay at the "Leaky Cauldron" in the summer before my third year I still remembered the layout of the first floor. I listened at the door to room no. 10 and heard loud snoring. No way that this was Daphne! I tiptoed to the next room, room no. 11. It was the room I had stayed in more than five years ago. When I listened at the door, silence greeted me. I tried the doorknob. As I'd expected, the door was locked from inside. Slipping my wand an inch out of the invisible holster, I cast a silent "Alohomora!" and hoped that it would do the trick and I'd not have to resort to a more offensive spell. I shuddered to imagine the general public's reaction when they read in the "Daily Prophet" that the Chosen One tried to blast his way into a guest room of the "Leaky Cauldron".

The door clicked open. I frowned. I'd not have felt safe with only a simple Locking Charm to protect me in a magical environment. But most people had not had my experiences during the war, I reminded myself. However, if I found Daphne in that room, I'd have to talk to her about security measures, even if she wouldn't want to have me. My heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach at the mere thought.

Ever so careful I inched the door open. The room hadn't changed. The polish of the oak furniture gleamed in the light of the fire that crackled merrily in the grate. The huge bed still occupied the middle of the room. In the flickering light I saw Daphne's slender form lying on top of the blankets.

She lay on her side, her face partly covered by her beautiful hair, and she still wore the clothes she had worn during the day. In the light of the fire I could see tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. She must have fallen asleep crying. I felt like an arsehole.

I edged closer, not wanting to startle her out of her sleep by a sudden noise or movement, and knelt down beside her until we were face to face. At the last moment it occurred to me to cast a Silencing Spell on the room, just to be safe. I cupped my hand around her cheek and whispered, 'Daphne!'

Her eyes fluttered open. When she noticed me, they beamed with joy, but in the next second the joy was replaced by the cold, impersonal stare of her Ice-Queen- persona. Only someone who knew her as well as I did could see the mix of warmth, joy and unshed tears that was fighting with anger lurking deep in her eyes when she looked at me. 'What do you want, Harry?' she asked, and the tone of her voice made me shiver. Her hand crept to the wand on her bedside table.

I intercepted her hand. 'This time, you'll hear me out, Daphne. After that, you might hex me into the next millennium if you still feel like it,' I told her and was proud that my voice didn't quiver. My heart raced, giving me a light-headed feeling, but I was determined to get my piece out, even if it was killing me. _You're a Gryffindor! You can do that!_ I told myself mentally and took a deep breath. The words tumbled out of my mouth as soon as I started talking.

'I'm sorry, Daphne. Not that I kissed you. Merlin, no, I wanted to kiss you for weeks! But that I kissed you while you clearly had a drink too many. I didn't want to take advantage of you, so I said I was sorry. But it was not because I kissed you. Well, in a way it was, but not because it was a bad thing. Merlin, it was the best thing that ever happened to me! But my timing was wrong, and now you're angry at me, anyway, and I have no idea what to do because you left and I'm miserable without you.' I knew I rambled, and eventually ran out of breath. I took a long, shuddering, breath and continued. 'I miss you, Daphne. Life isn't worth living without you.'

My eyes never left her face while I was talking. Her expression turned from feigned indifference to surprise, then joy, only to be replaced by ire when I ended my sentence. She shot up in the bed, kicking away my hand that still cupped her cheek, and causing me to fall backwards. I was hardly able to support me with my hands to keep me from falling flat on my back, when she already leapt at me. My hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, and the back of my head hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. Stars danced before my eyes.

The next moment her lips covered mine, and she kissed me like I've never been kissed before. I was sure I'd died and gone to heaven.

Much too soon for my liking she ended the kiss. Though she still glared at me. Her face was red with ire, and before I knew what was wrong with her, her small fists pummelled my chest.

'You stupid, stupid, noble Gryffindor! You put me through all this because you thought you took advantage of me? Damn you, Harry, use your brain! I'm a Slytherin; I'll never allow a boy to take advantage of me! You should know that I'd never do anything out of the spur of the moment, you oaf! I planned on kissing you that night, maybe even seduce you! I was sure you felt the same for me, but when you said you're sorry I thought I'd made a terrible mistake and you weren't interested in me at all! How am I supposed to know your damned Gryffindor nobility got in the way?' Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was sobbing and laughing.

I caught her hands in mine and cradled them to my chest. I couldn't help myself; I roared with laughter.

Daphne joined my laughter. Then she rested her head on my chest and sighed contentedly. 'Merlin, Harry, I've been so miserable!'

'So have I,' I replied and put my arms around her. 'You should have heeded your own advice and listen to me when I wanted to talk to you the next morning!'

She looked up and ran her hand through my hair. 'I'm sorry, Harry! I put us through the wringer because I was too embarrassed to talk with you.'

I kissed her on the top of her head. 'And I should have listened to my gut feeling and insist that you hear me out. We both made a mistake, Daphne, and suffered from it. Let's hope we won't make that mistake ever again!'

'Never!' Daphne replied.

There it was again, that light in her eyes when she looked at me. Somehow I knew that special look in her eyes was only meant for me, and my heart beat a drumroll. I was sure I still didn't deserve her devotion, but that moment I made an oath to myself that I'd do everything to be worth of it and never make her regret her decision.

During the last days, while I waited for the Portkey that would finally get me back to her, I'd done nothing but to think about the perfect moment to declare my feelings to her. I'd thought along the lines of a romantic dinner and candlelight and moonshine. However, when I lay flat on my back on the spotlessly clean, but uncomfortably hard wooden floor of guestroom no. 11, Daphne sprawled over my chest, and a lump of the size of an egg forming at the back of my head where it had hit the floor, I knew that the right moment had come. I cupped her cheek with my hand and again lost myself in the depth of her beautiful blue eyes.

'I love you, Daphne,' I whispered and kissed her.

I poured everything into that kiss I felt for her, and she seemed to understand and responded in kind.

'I love you, too, Harry,' she replied when we finally had to break off the kiss.

The goofy grin that appeared on my face at her words probably could have lit up all of Diagon Alley. I tightened my grip around her. 'Really? Be careful what you say, love, you won't get rid of me any time soon,' I tried to joke.

Again she looked at me with that strange light in her eyes. 'I wouldn't mind to keep you around for the rest of my life, Harry,' she said.

'I think that can be arranged,' I replied and kissed her again.

HP - DG

We didn't resurface from our little island of bliss on the floor of the guestroom of the "Leaky Cauldron" until the grey light of a drab March morning in London crept through the curtains. I looked at the young woman in my arms. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were rumpled and her lips very pink and swollen. She looked thoroughly kissed, but I was sure I didn't look much better.

Faint noises from the taproom reminded me that there were some things we hadn't talked about yet, though I was pretty sure what answer she'd give me. 'Will you come back with me?' I asked.

'Of course I will. I don't want to miss another second I could spend with you, Harry!'

'Good decision,' I grinned and pecked her lightly on the lips. 'Let's pack your things and get going!'

'I'd love to have a shower first and change into something more fitting for Asia,' Daphne replied and scrambled to her feet. She went to her trunk and gathered the things she needed and walked out of the door, but not before giving me another kiss.

I settled into the only chair the room provided and waited for her return. It didn't take long. When Daphne came back, she was dressed in dark slacks and a silk blouse. She put the jeans and jumper she'd worn the day before away and packed the rest of her belongings. Lastly she pulled a light suit jacket out of her trunk and put it over her blouse. She shrunk her trunk and shoved it into the pocket of her slacks.

'Ready!' she announced. Then she gave me a critical look and grinned. 'Merlin, what have you done to your suit, Harry? It's crumpled all over; you'd think you'd spent hours lying on the floor!'

'Hah-hah!' I replied, but also had to grin.

Daphne pulled out her wand and straightened my suit with a few, well placed flicks. She really was good at these kind of spells, I had to admit. 'What now?' she asked and stashed her wand away.

'Breakfast?' I asked hopefully. A loud grumble from my stomach emphasised my question.

Daphne snorted. 'Some things never change, I guess. All right, let's get you fed!'

She grabbed my hand, and we walked out of the room, still laughing.

'Oh, pardon me,' Daphne said to the woman she'd walked into as she opened the door.

'Don't worry about that, luv,' an all too familiar voice replied. 'Harry, how _lovely_ to see you here!'

I groaned, cursing which revengeful deity ever put Daphne and I at the wrong place at the wrong time. 'I wish I could say the same, Rita,' I replied.

Time had been good to her since I last saw her when I gave her the interview for "The Quibbler". Her rigid blonde locks were back in place, together with the crimson two-inch nails and the hilarious jewels on her spectacles. She wore robes made of dragon skin in a shade of green that made my eyes water. Around the collar and the cuffs the robes were trimmed with Niffler fur. It was a rather costly attire, and a sure sign she was back in business. The look she gave me was one of pure delight. I couldn't blame her on that; an article about the Chosen One coming out of a bedroom of the "Leaky Cauldron" hand in hand with the mysterious girl she'd seen him with in Sydney would pay her rent for months to come.

'My, my, you haven't lost one ounce of your charm, Harry,' she replied. 'Won't you introduce me to your girlfriend?' The predatory smile she gave Daphne made me want to hex her into the next millennium and feed her to the Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest.

I was about to reply along these lines, when Daphne held out her hand to Skeeter. 'I'm Daphne Greengrass. How do you do?'

Rita took her hand and shook it. 'A Greengrass? I think there was a Cyrus Greengrass a few years ahead of me in Slytherin during my time.' The smile she gave Daphne was that of a spider inviting an unsuspecting fly into her net.

'That would have been my father,' Daphne replied.

Rita's eyebrows went up. 'A scion from a grey Pureblood family and the Chosen One? Now, that's surprising! You'll have to tell me everything about your romance! Don't you think it's time for another exclusive interview, Harry, dear?' She smiled at me, flashing her gold teeth.

I definitely didn't agree with her on that sentiment, but Daphne obviously didn't share my resentments. 'That's a wonderful idea, Rita! Harry and I were just going down to have breakfast. Why don't you join us?'

I quickly masked my surprised gasp at her suggestion as a cough when Daphne pressed my hand in warning. The last weeks had shown me that her father had trained her well in everything she had to know as the Head of an Ancient House and future member of the Wizengamot. Dealing with unpleasant members of the press was part of that, so I decided to let Daphne do the talking, hoping that she knew what she was doing.

Together, we walked down into the empty taproom and settled down at one of the tables.

'Harry, will you do the honours and cast an Anti-Listening-Charm?' Daphne asked.

I let my wand slip out of the holster and muttered "Muffliato!' There was no need to let Skeeter know that I hardly needed to wave my wand anymore these days and could do all of my spells silently. By the wink Daphne gave me I could tell she approved of my actions.

Her face became all business-like when she turned to Skeeter. 'Now, Rita, luv, you know the deal. You'll get your exclusive interview, but we expect fair treatment in return. No Quick-Quotes-Quill, no outrageous lies. You'll write the truth. I expect to get a draft of your article in advance, and if I approve, you can publish it in the "Sunday Prophet".'

To my amazement, Rita agreed with a bow of her head. 'Of course, Miss Greengrass. I wouldn't have expected anything else!' She then pulled a notepad and a Muggle biro out of her crocodile leather handbag. Before she could start with her interview, however, she was interrupted by the waitress who wanted to take our orders.

I looked up to order a full breakfast for Daphne and I, and suffered the next shock of the morning. 'Hannah?'

Hannah Abbott looked as flabbergasted as I felt. 'Harry? Is that really you? Wow, you surely look different!' She gave me an appraising look from head to toe.

'Is that a good thing or a bad thing?' I asked back, feeling rather uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

'Oh, definitely a good thing!' she winked, but was interrupted by Daphne, who cleared her throat.

'I'd like to have a full breakfast and tea, please,' she smiled at Hannah when she caught her attention, though her eyes threw icy daggers at the girl.

'Uh, yes, of course, Greengrass,' a flustered Hannah replied.

I suppressed a grin. It never ceased to amaze me when Daphne played the Pureblood card. It was such a stark contrast to the warm-hearted girl I knew, but always effective.

'What do you want, Harry?' Hannah asked me. All traces of flirtatiousness were gone.

'I'd like the same,' I replied, and turned to Skeeter. 'What will it be for you, Rita?'

'Only tea, please,' she said. She'd followed the exchange between Hannah, Daphne and I with rapt interest, and I shuddered to think what she'd make out of it.

She waited until Hannah had served our breakfast before she fired her first question at us. 'That was surely an interesting sight, the two of you coming out of the same bedroom this morning and looking all cosy! Any comments on that?'

I felt how the blush crept into my cheeks, but Daphne playfully threatened Skeeter with her fork. 'Keep your mind out of the gutter, Rita, luv. It's not at all what you think. Actually, I've already been in London for a couple of days for business reasons. Harry got called back yesterday because of an emergency with his family holdings and decided to surprise me this morning.'

Rita looked as if somebody had taken away her favourite crimson nail polish. 'You're no fun, Miss Greengrass,' she sighed, but nevertheless scribbled something on her notepad. She turned to me. 'I conclude from Miss Greengrass' words that you've taken the mantle of the Head of House Potter and are also managing your family holdings, Harry?'

'That's correct,' I confirmed around a forkful of scrambled egg. I hadn't eaten properly in I don't know how many days and I was not inclined to let Skeeter come between me and the first meal I actually relished since the disastrous ball.

'How does it feel to deal with business decisions after your exciting adventures with You-Know-Who? Isn't that rather boring?'

I put my fork down on my plate and glared at Skeeter. 'Really, Rita, are you still so afraid that you'll have to use that silly moniker? He's got a name, you know. Call him Riddle, if you don't have the balls to call him Voldemort!'

She shrieked at that and her biro clattered to the ground.

Daphne and I shared a look and burst out laughing, while Skeeter crawled under the table on all fours in search of her biro. When she emerged from under the table, she was rather red in the face and her curls a trifle dishevelled.

I smiled at her. 'To answer your question, not at all. It's actually quite interesting and I found out I have a knack for it. Of course, I'm still learning, but my grandfather Fleamont Potter gave me excellent advisors when he made me his heir, so I'm eventually getting there.'

She scribbled down my answer, then frowned. 'But, Harry, everybody is expecting that the Chosen One will join the Aurors soon and help round up the Death Eaters who are still on the run. In fact, there's been a huge public outcry when you didn't begin Auror training in September.'

I put down my fork and dabbed my mouth with my napkin before I took a sip of tea, thinking hard how to phrase my answer. 'Well, at first I'd need to obtain my N.E.W.T.s before doing that. Since I dropped out of Hogwarts in favour to hunt down Voldemort I haven't come round to that yet.'

Skeeter winced when I mentioned the name again, but this time managed to keep her composure. 'Aw, come on, Harry! Surely the Ministry would have made an exception for the Conqueror of Evil!'

I hadn't heard that moniker yet, so I almost choked at my tea. Beside me, Daphne chuckled, and I gave her a reproachful look.

She blew me a kiss over the rim of her teacup in return.

I focussed on Skeeter again. 'Maybe, but that would have been preferential treatment, wouldn't it? I don't want to have anything of that. If I join the Aurors, it will be because of my own merits and not because the Ministry wants me to join its ranks to make me a kind of poster boy!'

'Very noble,' Skeeter mocked and scribbled something on her notepad. 'So, are you planning to take your N.E.W.T.s to be able to join the Aurors?'

I had to laugh. 'You really never give up if you've sunk your teeth into a question, don't you? Yes, I'm planning on taking private tutoring during the next months. Daphne will join me, because she couldn't take her N.E.W.T.s last year for family reasons, and we plan to ask each of our friends to join us who couldn't attend Hogwarts last year and didn't return to school this year for one reason or another.'

'And after that it's the Aurors?' she pressed.

I shrugged my shoulders. 'I haven't thought about that yet. There are so many options.'

Skeeter looked from me to Daphne. 'So, how are your mutual plans? Are there any interesting announcements to be expected soon?'

I rolled my eyes at her. 'Rita, do you really expect me to answer that when the lady in question is sitting right beside us?'

'You've learned a lot since we last talked, Harry!' Skeeter replied and gave me a look that could only be described as impressed. 'But I've also noted that you didn't deny anything!' She flashed me a predatory smile and then turned to Daphne, her expression becoming one of faked concern. 'You can't imagine my surprise when I saw you leaving St. Mungo's yesterday, Miss Greengrass, looking pale and withdrawn. I really hope you are well. Or are you hiding a sweet surprise for our readers, considering how you are glowing today?'

Daphne shook her head at her. 'Do you ever give up, Rita? I hate to disappoint you, neither I'm terminally ill nor am I pregnant with a lovechild from Harry.'

Again, I choked at my tea, and Daphne grinned at me. She then turned to Skeeter. 'I was at the hospital yesterday to inform the Healers who took care of my mother after she's been tortured into insanity last year that she passed away almost three months ago.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Skeeter replied, but didn't look like it. 'So, you're travelling with a young man so soon after the tragic loss of someone so close to you? Be careful, Miss Greengrass, people might think you callous because of that!'

Daphne was unfazed. She took my hand and smiled sweetly at Skeeter. 'Actually, it was that tragic loss that brought Harry and I together. Harry went on a well-deserved cruise around the world to recuperate after the trials of last year, while I chose the ship as a means of transportation to get my mother to the U.S.A. for a new treatment. She couldn't travel by Portkey because of her condition. Unfortunately, she passed away on the first night of our journey. Neither Harry nor I knew that we'd booked adjoining cabins, but when he realised what had happened he offered his help and has been my rock ever since then.'

'Aw, love blooming from tragedy! The readers will love it!' Skeeter purred, and I winced. Only Merlin knew what kind of sappy article she'd make out of that!

Of course, she wanted to hear everything about the way our romance developed from there. The answers Daphne gave her were the truth. It was impressing how she kept the things to herself Rita didn't need to know. Especially she didn't tell Rita anything about our plans of the political alliance between the House of Potter and the House of Greengrass, or our intend to change the majorities of the Wizengamot.

Skeeter left us soon after that, and I blew out a sigh of relief. 'Merlin, I can't stand that woman! Why in the world did you agree to give her that interview, Daphne?'

Daphne poured herself another cup of tea, looking as cool as a cucumber after our encounter with the obnoxious reporter. 'Harry, after she's seen us coming out of my room hand in hand, she'd have written about us, anyway, and it probably would not have been flattering, considering her reputation. So, it was better to soften her up and talk to her and feed her some carefully selected information.' She took a sip of tea and then put the cup down. 'You can't suppress the press, Harry, but you can at least control what they'll write about you.'

'Another lesson on Pureblood politics, and duly noted, love,' I replied and kissed her cheek.

After we'd finished our last cup of tea, Daphne settled her tab with Tom, and then we ventured out on Diagon Alley.

'I need to visit the apothecary before we return to the ship, Harry. I won't go back without hangover potion and headache potion!' she told me.

I laughed at that, which earned me a poke of her elbow. Still laughing, I put my arms around her shoulder and walked her down the street.

Ten months after the Battle of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley was almost back to normal. Though, Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour had never opened again. The nice man who'd helped me with my homework and had given me free ice creams whenever I visited his shop was still missing. It was still rather early in the morning. The shops were just getting ready for the day, and the street was void of the usual crowds that bustled around later in the day.

At the apothecary, I waited patiently until Daphne had concluded her business, though I didn't understand why that included a long, hushed conversation with one of the female apothecaries and a visit to the back room of the shop. Daphne reappeared almost thirty minutes later with a large brown paper bag full of vials.

'You seem to have planned on quite a lot of wild nights,' I said as we left the shop.

'Indeed,' was all she answered, a small smile playing around her lips.

I led her down the street to Olivander's, remembering she'd told me on one of our first days together that she'd love to have an invisible wand holster, just like mine. It had been custom made for me by the old wandmaker, and I hoped that I could persuade him to make another one for Daphne when I told him about my concerns for her safety, now that Skeeter would link her name to me. However, we never arrived there. I'd forgot that we had to pass Weasley' Wizarding Weezes on our way, and bad luck would have it that Ron was on duty that day and just putting the carts with the special offers beside the entrance when we came down the street.

He looked up and froze.

I also halted my steps. Ron and I hadn't seen each other since he'd left for Australia, together with Hermione, at the end of May of last year. We'd parted as best friends then, but that had been before my second break-up with Ginny. Judging by the howler he sent me after he'd heard the news, he hadn't taken kindly to that. Knowing the volatile temper of my so-called best mate, I let my wand slip out of my invisible holster for an inch and stepped in front of Daphne.

Not a second to soon.

'Potter!' he roared. Then he brandished his wand and threw a stunner at me.

I was ready for him and put up a shield, but the stunner harmlessly sizzled over our heads and faded. An accurate aim had never been one of Ron's strongest points, and it got even worse when he was in a temper.

Daphne also had her wand in her hand. 'That's a fine best friend you have, Harry!' she growled.

'He's not always like that,' I defended him. 'But he's pissed at me because I broke up with his sister.'

'Merlin, that was almost ten months ago!' Daphne exclaimed and ducked when another stunner flew over our heads.

'Yeah, but if he's read Skeeter's article about our stay in Sydney, he'll only recently have found out that I'm travelling with a snake,' I replied and deflected the next stunner with a flick of my wand.

Daphne looked at me flabbergasted. 'What's got I being a Slytherin to do with that?' she asked.

I pulled her down when another stunner assaulted us. Ron was warming up; his aim was getting better. 'Ron is rather close minded in his views,' I explained. 'Add a short, redhead temper to that, and you'll know why he behaves like this.'

'Do I, really?' Daphne fumed. 'I don't know why you put up with that nonsense, Harry, but I'm not impressed with him!' She flicked her wand in a short, precise movement. 'Expelliarmus!'

Ron was thrown backwards by the power behind her spell, and his wand came sailing in an arch towards us. I caught it mid-air.

'Excellently executed!' I complimented her and kissed her on the cheek. 'I don't understand why you failed your Defense O.W.L.s.'

'You've just seen the extend of my repertoire of Defense spells, love,' she replied and took Ron's wand out of my hand.

Ron had attracted quite the attention when he started throwing stunners at us. The few early customers had stopped in their tracks, and the staff of the adjoining shops had appeared on the doorsteps, curious to see what was going on. George stood in the doorframe of his shop, looking at Daphne and I with a bland expression on his face.

Daphne sauntered over to Ron.

He groaned and moved feebly. Knowing the temper of my mate, I went after my girlfriend to make sure he wouldn't get any funny ideas.

Daphne towered over Ron, his wand in her hand. 'You're an even bigger idiot than Malfoy told us, Weasel!' she spat. 'You'd better get a grip on yourself and grow up if you want to keep your best friend!' With that, she tossed his wand at him.

Ron groaned again. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

Concerned that he might have hurt himself seriously when he flew backwards, I ran a Diagnostic Charm over him. Thankfully, it came up without results, except a nice bruise at the back of his head, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

'It takes more than that to crack his thick skull,' George's voice called from the door.

I looked up and saw that he smirked at Daphne and I. Then he came down the few steps that led from the shop onto the street. 'The show is over!' he called to his neighbours who still crowded the entrances of their shops. 'Haven't you all got work to do?'

The few early customers and the staff of the adjoining shops disappeared, leaving only George, Daphne and I standing around Ron's unconscious form.

'Daphne, let me introduce George Weasley to you, owner of Weasley's Wizarding Weezes. George, this is Daphne Greengrass, my girlfriend,' I made the necessary introductions, though I was sure they remembered each other from Hogwarts. But after all these weeks of tutoring in Pureblood etiquette I knew Daphne would be upset with me if I didn't observe the formalities.

George took the hand Daphne offered him and bowed over it. ' _Enchante,_ Miss Greengrass,' he smiled and kissed her knuckles.

'Call me Daphne,' she replied. 'Harry's friends are also my friends.'

George clapped me on the back. 'Way to go, Harrykins! One of these days you'll have to tell me how you managed to catch the hottest bird of Hogwarts!'

I laughed at that. 'That's a long story, George!'

'I'm a good listener,' he replied with a grin.

'Yeah, especially when you expect to gather blackmail material,' I countered.

He put a hand on his heart. 'You hurt me, oh Chosen One!'

We laughed at that.

'I suppose you don't take the news of Daphne and I being together as badly as the rest of your family?' I asked and pointed to the form of his brother at our feet.

Ron stirred faintly, and George casually flicked a low powered Stunning Hex at him. 'Nah, neither I'm such a moron as Sleeping Beauty here, nor am I as jealous as my lovely little sister.' He shook his head.

'Ron somehow thinks he's entitled to special treatment because he was with you last year. He refused to return to Hogwarts to get his N.E.W.T.s and was offended when the Ministry told him that he couldn't start Auror training before he had the right number of N.E.W.T.s. Mind you, they've lowered the standard to a measly "Acceptable", so even my moronic brother should be able to get in, but he thinks he's above that. Luckily he still has enough sense of family obligation to volunteer to help me in the shop. Between us, I have to tell you that he's really good at leading a business. He's got a nose for where the money is.'

I wasn't surprised about that. Ron had a rather level head on his shoulders whenever he allowed himself to think instead to rely on his gut reactions.

'He took it badly when he learned about your break-up with Ginny. You know how protective he is of her. Said something about he warned you never to hurt her again and that you needed to learn a lesson, best mate or not.'

Daphne snorted at that. 'Oh, that's rich! If someone got hurt here, it's Harry!'

'Please, don't, Daphne,' I begged and put my arm around her. 'I don't want to drag George into my quarrel with Ginny!'

She harrumphed at that, but kissed my cheek as a sign that she was sorry and would comply.

George looked from Daphne to me. 'I thought as much, ' he said. 'After all, I know my sister and her Weasley temperament.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'Honestly, Harry, I've got no idea what's wrong with her! Dad, Bill and Percy told me that she avoided you already two weeks before you left "The Burrow", so they weren't surprised when you broke up with her. But if you ask her, she's still convinced that she's the love of your life and that you'll return to her any day now. She was beyond furious when she saw the pictures of Daphne and you in the "Daily Prophet".'

He sighed deeply. 'I'm worried for my little sister, Harry.' His face got uncharacteristically stern when he mentioned Ginny. 'Be careful, Harry. Ginny is frantic and Mum has dug out the Family Grimoire and is looking up Love Potions and Merlin knows what else. You'd better watch your back.'

'Don't worry, George, Daphne and I will leave England again within the next hour and won't return before the Memorial Week begins,' I told him.

'That's good to hear. I really don't know what got into my brother and my sister, not to mention our mother.' He shook his head.

'What about Hermione?' I asked. 'Usually, she manages to make Ron see reason, and Ginny also would listen to her.'

'You forget the impact of teenage hormones,' George replied bluntly. 'These long weeks alone in Australia gave Ron and her more than enough time to experiment with each other, if you get my drift.' He grinned at us.

'Yeah, I know what you mean, George. Please, restrain yourself. I really don't need these mental images about my best friends!' I told him, and George sniggered.

'Well, whatever my brother did with her, he must be good at it. Hermione is putty in his hands for the time being. I'm sorry, Harry, but you can't count on her help as long as this hormone rush continues,' he grinned.

I grimaced at that. 'What a lovely thought! Gee, thanks for the mental image, mate!' I shuddered, and then clapped him on the shoulder. 'I think it's time to get on our way. It was great to see you, George, and thanks for the warning!'

'Anything for you, Harrykins,' he replied and gave me a brotherly hug. 'Bye, Daphne! Take good care of lover boy here!'

'I will!' she replied and shook his hand.

George waved at us a last time and then Levitated the still unconscious Ron through the door of his shop.

I winced when I heard the head of my friend bump against the doorframe.

'Ouch!' Daphne commented. It sounded rather smug.

I put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the temple. 'Ron was right. You are a cold-blooded snake,' I told her, though I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice.

'Only when it comes to morons who try to hurt you!' she rectified herself and kissed me back. Her arm slid around my waist. 'I can't wait to get back to the "Princess Isabella"!'

'Neither can I,' I agreed. We'd reached the wall between Diagon Alley and the "Leaky Cauldron", and I tapped my wand on the stones. The entrance opened and we walked into the backyard of the pub. I pulled out the broken spectacle case the Department of Magical Transportation had sent me yesterday and held it out to her.

Daphne put one finger on the spectacle case and slid her free arm around my waist.

I let my wand slid out of my holster, pointed it at the Portkey in my other hand and muttered 'Portus'. Then I slipped the wand back into the holster and and wrapped my arm around Daphne's waist. The Portkey glowed blue and whisked us away.

Thanks to Daphne, this time I didn't fall on my arse.

She smirked at me when I used her to steady myself. 'Smooth, Potter!'

'Welcome to Chep Lak Kok International Portkey Terminal. We hope you had a pleasant transportation. Please, move along!' an official sounding voice said.

Daphne looked around. 'This is not our suite at the "Princess Isabella",' she commented, taking in our surroundings.

We stood on a platform in a small, panelled compartment that opened to what seemed to be a long hall. Between the platform and the opening to the hall stood an Asian looking man who wore a uniform with a pillbox hat. _Chep Lak Kok Internatinal Portkey Terminal_ was printed on the hatband. 'Move along, please. There's another Portkey due any moment.'

Daphne and I stepped off the platform and into the hall. It was about three hundred feet long and had ten compartments like the one Daphne and I had just arrived in on both sides. The compartments on the left side were obviously designed for departing Portkeys, with the compartments for arriving Portkeys, like Daphne and mine, on the right side. There were also rows with seats in the middle of the hall, where wizards and witches waited for their Portkey being called for departure.

A cacophony of foreign languages greeted us. The hall was teeming with wizards and witches from all over the world. Only very few of them wore traditional robes, I noticed. Most were dressed in Muggle clothes, like Daphne and I.

At each end of the hall was a door, guarded by a wizard in a uniform identical to that of the wizard who'd greeted us on our arrival. Queues of wizards and witches had formed behind them. Obviously, the uniformed wizards had the task to let small groups of wizards and witches out of the door and into the Muggle world at irregular intervals.

Daphne and I took our place at the end of the queue.

'Care to tell me where to you've abducted me?' Daphne asked and took my arm.

I rubbed the back of my head with my free hand. 'I hoped you'd return with me, but you know that it's impossible to make it from Shanghai to London and back with Muggle transportation within one day. There's no way we'd have caught the "Princess Isabella" in time for her departure tonight. So, I told the Meehans we'd meet again in Hong Kong. There are three days between the two ports, time enough to get to London, find you and take a plane to Hong Kong. So, we have two options. We could return to the ship, hide in our suite for three days and Confound the staff that has to bring us our meals, or go straight away to Hong Kong, stay in a hotel until the "Princess Isabella" arrives and explore the city.' I grinned down at her. 'I thought the latter option was more to your liking. I've been told there are fantastic beaches on Lantau!'

Daphne stood on her tiptoes and kissed me. 'You're so sweet, Harry!'

Then it was our turn to be let out into the Muggle world. The official asked us to enlarge our luggage, so that we'd look like Muggles who'd just arrived by plane, and then let us slip through the door.

We found ourselves in the arrivals hall of Hong Kong International Airport, it turned out. The crowds of people were much bigger on this side and the noise was deafening.

'Any idea what to do now?' I asked Daphne as we stood in front of the door.

She clung tightly to my arm, afraid that we'd lose each other in the masses of people. 'I guess we ought to find a hotel first,' she replied.

'Sounds good to me. Any suggestions?'

'My father once was on a business trip in Hong Kong and had to deal a lot with Muggles then, so he stayed at a Muggle hotel. I think it was called "The Peninsula". He was very impressed with it, I remember, and said we haven't got something like that.'

'All right, "The Peninsula" it is,' I agreed.

There was a row of trolleys conveniently parked next to the entrance of the Portkey terminal, and I loaded our luggage onto one. Then we followed the signs that led to the exit. A long row of taxis waited there for passengers, and we took one to Kowloon.

The ride from the airport to the hotel was breath taking. The highway led along the waterline, offering beautiful views onto the sea. After about thirty minutes we reached the hotel.

When we got out of the taxi, Daphne grabbed my arm. 'We need only one room, Harry,' she said.

My eyes widened. 'Are you sure about that?'

'Absolutely!' she smiled at me.

We walked into the lobby. "The Peninsula" turned out to be a top class hotel, located on Salisbury Road in Kowloon, with a front row exposure to Victoria Harbour. The only available room was a suite, and after the check in we were guided to the 25th floor of the Peninsula Tower by a page in a spotless white uniform. I was thankful that I'd developed the habit to dress more smartly during our stay on the 'Princess Isabella" and meanwhile discarded all of my jeans and t-shirts, so I fit in with my surroundings without attracting attention.

The layout of the suite was similar to our suite on the "Princess Isabella", only that it was much more spacious. The bedroom boasted of a small sitting area with a sinfully comfortable looking loveseat and a custom made telescope in in front of floor to ceiling bay windows.

'Wow!' Daphne exclaimed and let herself plop into the loveseat. 'You surely know how to spoil a girl, Mr Potter. This room must cost a small fortune!'

I shrugged my shoulders. 'Money was never important to me. But I inherited a lot of it from my grandfather, and it's no use to anyone when it's sitting on a bank account. Besides that, after last year I'm not inclined to rough it ever again, if I can help it!'

Daphne sobered at my words. 'I wonder if we'd have fallen in love, had we met before last May.'

I sat down beside her and took her in my arms. 'My therapist taught me never to ask what if, love, but to make the best of what I have. Personally, I'm extremely happy about the way things turned out!'

'Me, too!' she replied and gave me a butterfly kiss.

There was only one answer to that, so I pulled her closer to me and kissed her back.

HP – DG

When we returned to reality, it had already gone dark in front of the windows, thanks to the time difference.

Daphne snuggled against me while she looked at the panorama in front of us.

Victoria Harbour was illuminated with myriads of lights. Ferries and hundreds of other vessels populated the water. Beyond the harbour the skyline of the city of Hong Kong soared into the air, the tall buildings lined out by millions of lights blinking in the darkness.

'Impressing, isn't it?' I asked.

Daphne nodded. 'Yeah. But it's also – I don't know – kind of suffocating. There are so many people! I'm not used to such crowded places.'

'You've got a point,' I agreed. 'I'm not used to that, too.'

'But you said you live in London,' she objected and got up to turn on the light.

'I do, but my neighbourhood is rather tame, compared to this.' I gestured to the window. 'Besides that, I hardly ever went out.' I also stood up and stretched. 'Do you want to go out for dinner?'

Daphne shook her head and blushed. 'I'd rather stay here. Just the two of us, you know.'

'Sounds fine to me,' I grinned and took her in my arms again.

Eventually, we came around to order dinner. When we sat down at the dinner table, it was as if nothing had changed. We ate and talked and made plans how to spend the days in Hong Kong. I felt as if a goofy grin had been permanently tattooed to my lips.

After dinner, Daphne dimmed down the lights in the suite and dragged me to the huge lounge sofa in the living room. She draw her legs on the sofa and snuggled up to me. Again, we lost ourselves in what had rapidly become our favourite pastime.

Daphne trailed a line of kisses along my jawbone and my throat until she reached the top button of my shirt. With a wicked grin, she opened the button and started her way downwards, leaving a trace of fire on my body while she did so. I hardly could breathe.

Eventually, the last button was open. With an impatient growl, she yanked the tails of my shirt out of my trousers and pushed it over my shoulders. Her small, soft hands caressed my back and my chest. Then she pushed me back until I laid flat on my back and straddled me.

Unable to hide my excitement from her any longer, I felt how I turned beet red.

Daphne smiled at me. 'No need to be embarrassed, Harry. I'd be extremely disappointed if you didn't react like that!' She bent down and gave me a searing kiss that made my state of arousal even worse.

We had to stop here, or we'd soon reach the point of no return, a faint voice of reason in the back of my head told me.

Daphne gave me a seductive smile, and slowly opened the buttons of her blouse. Then she took my hands and placed them on the heavenly rounded mounds that were only clad by a very sexy lace bra.

My hands instinctively cupped around them, and I rubbed the hard nipples with my thumbs.

Daphne moaned and arched her back.

Merlin, she had no idea what she did to me! The voice of reason in the back of my head faded away. I pulled her towards me and kissed her deeply. We both panted heavily when we finally broke off the kiss.

Daphne looked at me. Her eyes were dark and smouldering with desire. 'Make love to me, Harry!' she whispered.

The voice of reason made itself heard for a last time. 'Are you sure about that, love?'

She linked her arms behind my neck and gave me another deep kiss. 'Does that answer your question?' she asked back.

Without another word I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

HP – DG

When I woke up, the sunlight was pouring through the window. We hadn't bothered to close the curtains last night. We laid in the heavenly soft king size bed of the suite. Daphne was curled against me, still asleep, and I had my arms wrapped around her. Her smooth, soft skin felt divine under my fingers, and my awakening body heartily agreed. The memories of how we had ended here last night and everything that had happened after then only added fuel to the fire.

I tried to gently pull away from Daphne, not to disturb her in her sleep, but was held back by Daphne's arms sliding around my waist. She had her eyes still closed, but I could feel her quiet chuckles vibrating against my chest.

'Don't!' she murmured sleepily. 'That feels so good!'

I couldn't deny that, so I stayed and dropped a line of kisses on her round shoulder that stuck out of the blankets.

Daphne purred with contentment and pressed herself closer against me.

One thing led to another, and it was much later when we – rather reluctantly – decided we were ready to tackle the day.

We had a leisurely breakfast at the suite. It was then when I was introduced to another mystery of the female sex.

Half way through our breakfast Daphne sprang up with a small shriek and ran to the walk-in closet where we'd stashed our things. She returned with one of the small vials she'd bought at the apothecary the day before. She opened it and downed it in one gulp.

'Ew!' she shook herself and took a sip of tea to wash the bad taste out of her mouth.

'For what in the world do you need a Hangover Potion this morning?' I wondered.

'That's not a Hangover Potion, but a Contraceptive Potion, love,' Daphne corrected me and poured herself a fresh cup of tea. 'One dose lasts for about twenty-four hours. The stuff is absolutely safe, as long as you remember to take it regularly and on time.'

I almost choked at my scrambled eggs. 'You mean, all the stuff you bought yesterday ...'

'Is basically female stuff, yeah,' she completed my sentence. 'Enough Contraceptive Potions to last me until we return to London, but also Anti-Cramp Potions and Headache Potions. Though I got a few Hangover Potions, too, just in case.' She grinned at me.

I remembered what I'd said to her when we left the apothecary and turned beet red. 'I'm sorry what I said when we left the apothecary, Daphne,' I told her. 'Had I known what you'd bought, I'd never have made such an insensitive comment.'

She gave me a sultry smile. 'Don't worry about that, Harry. Wild nights with you were exactly what I had in mind when I bought that stuff!'

My blush intensified, but I'd also become curious. 'Why do you have to take the potion every day? I'm pretty sure there are also potions that last for a year.' I'd gathered that information from a discussion between Parvati and Lavender in our sixth year. One night, when the common room was almost empty, they'd started discussing methods of contraception. They had no clue that I was still in the room, hidden from their view in one of the huge armchairs by the fire and too embarrassed – and also secretly fascinated – by their conversation to make my presence known.

Daphne nodded at that. 'True, but the protection is not as good. They are only about fifty percent safe. You'll always have to cast additional Contraceptive Charms, and if you're not good at them or forget them in the heat of the moment, you're in for a surprise.' She grinned at me and took a sip of tea. 'Also, they have rather nasty side effects, like huge mood swings. That's because they can't be tuned to the magic of the witch. The Contraceptive Potion I take is tuned to me, that's why I spent so long in the backroom of the apothecary. The only disadvantage is that I have to remember to take it every morning. That's why I told you, to remind me in case I forget. I don't know about you, but I don't want to have little Harrys run around any time soon!'

I blanched at the thought. 'Merlin! No!'

Daphne laughed at me, and I joined her laughter. After that, we discussed how to spend our day. It turned out that for the first time since we travelled together, we couldn't agree on what to do. Since our stay in Hong Kong was only a short one, I'd been given a special offer when I booked the suite that included a pampering in the spa of the hotel for all occupants of the suite. While Daphne was very intrigued by the offer, everything in me baulked at the idea of spending a day at the spa.

'That's ridiculous,' Daphne laughed. 'We got along fine all these weeks, and as soon as we're together, we start to disagree!'

I also laughed, but suggested, 'Why don't you go to the spa and get yourself pampered, love? I don't mind spending some time of my own. We could meet here after that and go down to the lobby to have afternoon tea.' That was another extra that came with the suite.

She gave me a doubtful look. 'Are you sure?'

'Absolutely!' I confirmed. Actually, it suited me just fine that she'd be occupied for a couple of hours. I had a task on my mind I didn't want her to know about.

Five minutes later Daphne gave me a kiss and happily wandered off to the spa.

I took the elevator to the ground floor and began to explore "The Peninsula Arcade" that had been advertised in the prospect of the hotel we'd found in our suite. It boasted of dozens of boutiques of top class brands, among them twenty-six jewellers, if my count had been right. I was sure I'd find what I had in mind at one of them.

I took my time browsing the windows of each jeweller, and finally had my choice narrowed down to one shop. With a heavily pounding heart, I pushed the door to the shop open.

'I'm looking for an engagement ring,' I told the shop assistant who greeted me.

Fifty minutes later I left the shop, a small box containing a two carat brilliant set in a platinum ring burning a hole in the pocket of my trousers. I had no idea when I'd give her the ring, but I had no doubt that the right moment would occur some time during the remaining weeks of our cruise and that she'd say yes.

Daphne was not yet back when I arrived at the suite, so I settled down in the loveseat and amused myself with watching the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong through the telescope.

When Daphne returned almost two hours later, she was practically glowing. She threw herself at me and gave me a kiss that told me that she was as happy to see me as I was to see her. When she pulled back, I caught her in my arms and leaned my forehead against her, the goofy smile refusing to get off my face.

'What's the matter, Harry? You look as if you just drank a cauldron full of Felix Felicis!' she quipped.

'I don't need that stuff. I've got you, love,' I replied and kissed her on the nose.

'Good answer!' she laughed and kissed me back. She then gently pulled out of my embrace and blew me a kiss when I pouted. 'Give me five minutes to get changed and then we'll have tea, all right? I'm starved!'

I reluctantly agreed, and Daphne disappeared into the walk-in closet. Of course she needed more than five minutes. Much more, to be honest, but the way she looked when she returned was worth the wait. She wore a simple lavender coloured summer dress with flat sandals and had her hair pulled back with combs. Her narrow waist was emphasised by a broad white belt, and the short skirt showed off her shapely legs.

'You look gorgeous!' I told her, and was rewarded by a smile and a kiss that turned my legs into jelly.

Hand in hand we walked to the elevator that brought us down to the lobby. Afternoon tea was served under the impressing columns of the lobby. The tune of a soft Viennese waltz played in the background. The tea was as sumptuous as had been promised and even came with a glass of champagne.

Daphne grinned at me over the rim of her glass. 'I promise I'll stop after this one!'

'You'd better, love!' I snorted. 'Though I won't stop you on the next ball. And that time I'll take advantage of you!'

She laughed and blew me a kiss. 'You can take advantage of me anytime, love,' she purred, and I felt how I blushed.

After tea we set out to explore Hong Kong. The concierge had told us that the best view of the city and the surrounding territories was from Victoria Peak, so we decided to go there. We walked down Salisbury Road to the Star Ferry Pier.

We stood on the topmost deck of the ferry and watched Hong Kong Island coming closer. It was a beautiful day. A light breeze ruffled our hair, and the water glittered in the sunshine and in the windows of the tall buildings on both shores. The harbour teemed with hundreds of vessels.

'It's amazing that these many ships don't collide with each other,' Daphne remarked and put a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Yeah. The skyline is impressing, isn't it?' I replied.

Daphne scrunched her nose. 'I suppose, if you've got a thing for mega-cities. I prefer Sydney, though.'

'Me, too. It was somehow cosier,' I agreed. 'There are too many people here for my taste. I don't feel comfortable in such a hustle and bustle.'

Daphne nodded to that.

The uncomfortable feeling increased when we left the ferry and tried to find our way to Peak Tram Lower Terminus.

'It's like walking through an anthill,' Daphne said and clung to my hand for dear life, afraid that we might lose each other in the crowd.

It got better when we reached the tram. The ride through the tropical forest up to Victoria Peak actually was very pleasant, giving us glimpses of exotic birds and flowers. We had to walk another twenty minutes from Peak Tower station to Victoria Peak. We both enjoyed the walk, and I sent a thankful little thought to Mrs Greengrass, wherever she was now, for teaching her daughter to love Muggle exercise.

The view from Victoria Peak was breath taking, so much was true. We were lucky, it was a clear day, and we could see over the skyline of Hong Kong and Kowloon to China. More impressing, however, was the view over the rest of the island of Hong Kong and the adjoining islands.

'I'd never have thought that there are so many untouched areas,' I remarked when I looked down on the green heart of Hong Kong Island.

'It seems as everybody crowds near the sea,' Daphne agreed. 'And when you look at the adjoining islands, they seem still to be in their original state with only a few fisher villages.'

We explored Victoria Peak Park, and then took a walk along Victoria Trail that circled around the park, both of us not inclined to join the crowds on the streets any time soon.

We'd ventured out rather late in the afternoon, and dusk was already falling when we reached our starting point again. It was fascinating to watch how the city below us slowly was illuminated by millions of lights, and we went back to Victoria Peak to watch Hong Kong at night.

We took a taxi back from Victoria Peak to the hotel, and again opted for a quiet dinner and evening in our suite, exploring each other and our new relationship.

The next morning we had to get up at an unholy hour for the adventure of the day. After breakfast at the buffet style restaurant of the hotel we caught a taxi that brought us to Abberdeen Harbour on the other side of Hong Kong Island. From there we took the ferry to Lamma Island. The Sok Kwu Wan Ferry Pier was situated in a small bay that was the home of dozens of traditional floating fish farms. The kayak base was in walking distance of the ferry. After a short introduction we paddled through the maze of floating fish farms out to Lamma Channel.

I was impressed by the ingenious way the fish farmers seemed to have constructed their fish tanks out of everything they could get in their fingers. 'Just look at that, Daphne,' I laughed and pointed at a farm that had used about a dozen of different canisters in their construction. 'That gives the word recycling a whole new meaning!'

She looked at me blandly, obviously not understanding what I was talking about. That was one of the very few moments when it occurred to me that in spite of her unusual upbringing, Daphne had led the sheltered life of a Pureblood witch. She might know how to act in the Muggle world without attracting attention, but there were many things she didn't know anything about.

'Oh Merlin, look at the birds!' Daphne suddenly exclaimed. 'They seem to think the fish farms are a kind of self serving restaurant!'

Indeed, on every possible spot birds were perching, ever so often diving into the fish tanks and catching a snack. The animals had found out that it was easier to catch their prey from the farms than trying to hunt in the open water.

We left the bay and paddled around a headland to the southern coast of the island. The coast was made of spectacular granite cliffs. In time for lunch we reached a crescent beach, surrounded by cliffs and dotted with huge boulders. Golden sand gleamed in the sunlight, and Daphne let out a contend sigh as we paddled towards the shore.

I chuckled. That earned me an "accidental" shower, delivered by Daphne with her paddle. I didn't mind; the sun was burning down on us and paddling on the ocean, though near the coast, was a rather sweaty activity.

We enjoyed a long swim and were then treated to a picnic lunch on the beach.

Daphne leaned against me while she munched her sandwich and looked out onto the ocean, a dreamy expression on her face. Eventually I believed the story her mother told her about their descent from a sea nymph was true. It was uncanny how at home she felt in the water.

After a short siesta we started our hike across the island. We first visited Turtle Beach, the only nesting place in Hong Kong for the Green Sea Turtle, we were told. Then we hiked onto the ridge that spanned both the north and south sections of Lamma Island. The views from there onto the South China Sea on one side and Hong Kong Island on the other side were spectacular. Late in the afternoon we reached the kayak base again.

This time, we decided against taking a taxi from Abberdeen Harbour back to the hotel, but hopped onto another ferry that carried us from Abberdeen to the Central Ferry Pier of Victoria Harbour. From there it was only a hop and a skip with the next ferry back to our hotel. Sunburnt, tired, parched and hungry, but absolutely happy, we reached the hotel. Back in our suite, we both collapsed onto the lounge sofa and grinned at each other. Daphne snuggled up to me, and I put my arm around her. She yawned and leaned her head against my shoulder. Without realising it, we both fell asleep.

When I woke up with a start, it was already dark behind the windows, and the nightly skyline of Hong Kong beckoned to me with myriads of lights, though I was not tempted at all to throw myself in the nightlife of Hong Kong.

Daphne was missing from my side, but I could hear the shower running. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a terrycloth bathrobe. She dropped into the sofa beside me and poked me in the side.

'Go, get a shower, Harry. You stink!' she informed me with a grin.

'Yes, ma'am!' I replied and dropped a kiss on her head. Then I scrambled to my feet. 'I take it you're to tired to go out for dinner tonight?' I asked her with an amused smile.

'Uh-huh,' Daphne nodded and stifled a yawn.

When I returned from the shower, dinner had already arrived and the waiter was just leaving. Like Daphne, I hadn't bothered to dress and just slipped on a bathrobe. Daphne had ordered a simple pizza. I was amazed that a place like "The Peninsula" served such simple food. We took our plates to the lounge sofa, both wanting to laze around in front of the telly.

The pizza was delicious, but Daphne not even managed to eat half of it before she fell asleep, her head on my shoulder.

I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, where I tucked her in and then slipped into bed beside me.

'Luv you,' she mumbled, snuggling up to me in her sleep and sliding an arm around my waist.

I put out the light and took her in my arms, a broad smile on my face. Life was just wonderful.

HP – DG

The "Princess Isabella" was scheduled to arrive at Kowloon Ocean Terminal early in the morning, so Daphne and I were already up before sunrise. As always, Daphne wasn't able to fully open her eyes before she'd had her first cup of tea, so it fell onto me to pack our belongings.

"The Peninsula" offered a limousine service, and part of the package I'd booked was a ride in a veritable Rolls Royce when the guests left the hotel. So, we drove to Ocean Terminal in style.

We arrived just when the "Princess Isabella" was manoeuvred to the pier.

'Look, Harry!' Daphne said and pointed to the upmost deck.

Alvirah and Willy leaned against the railing and waved at us.

We waved back and then waited patiently until the gangway was put up and we were allowed to enter the ship.

The staff welcomed us warmly and took charge of our luggage. When Daphne and I entered the lobby, Alvirah and Willy just left the elevator and rushed towards us.

'You don't have to tell me, I see you've come to your senses!' Alvirah exclaimed, pointedly looking at our entwined fingers. She pulled Daphne and I into a hug that rivalled Mrs Weasley's best. 'I'm so happy for you!'

Willy joined his wife. 'Be glad you made it back together,' he added drily. 'Otherwise Alvirah would have come after you and talked some sense into your heads.'

We laughed at that.

'So, what are your plans for today?' Alvirah asked.

Daphne and I looked at each other and shrugged. Since we weren't on board the previous days, we couldn't book any of the excursions offered by the cruise company. We'd also had no idea how long it'll take us to board the "Princess Isabella" again, so we'd been reluctant to make any arrangements for today.

Alvirah beamed at us. 'Willy and I have been here before, and decided not to go on one of the excursions. This is Hong Kong, and that means SHOPPING!' Her eyes glittered with excitement. 'Do you want to join us?'

Daphne gave me a helpless look. The vow she'd made at her father's grave still was in effect, so a shopping tour was impossible for her. I grinned at her and told Alvirah, 'We'd love to!'

Daphne poked me into the side while we walked down the gangway behind the Meehans. 'Harry, how could you? You know it's impossible for me to buy anything!'

'Yes, but not for me!' I grinned.

'Harry! I won't let you spend your money on me!' she hissed.

'It's not in your power to decide how I spend my money, love,' I told her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

'But ...!'

She was silenced as we reached the end of the gangway and Alvirah turned around to discuss with Daphne which of the malls in walking distance of Ocean Terminal to tackle first. It turned out we didn't have to walk far. The mall adjoining Ocean Terminal was an El Dorado for any shopping addict female, offering a variety of luxury brand boutiques. Even I had heard of Gucci and Versace. With the fervour of a conqueror Alvirah tackled the shops, Daphne in tow.

Willy and I followed in a sedate pace, exchanging an amused smile.

It turned out that Alvirah was looking for a dress for a gala she and Willy had to attend to in June. That gave me an idea. While Alvirah was busy looking at the dresses in the shop, thus demanding the full attention of the shop assistant, and Willy dozed in one of the comfortable chairs the shop provided, I let my wand slip out of the invisible holster for about an inch and cast a silent Anti-Listening-Charm around Daphne and I. 'Don't you need a new dress for the Ministry ball in May?' I asked Daphne.

She looked undecided. 'One of my old dresses will do just fine.'

'Just fine is not enough. Not when you're going to be my date. After all, I'm the Chosen One and have a reputation to keep,' I winked.

She gaped at me and then burst out laughing. 'As if you give a damn about that! Honestly, Harry, I can't let you buy my dress!'

'Call it an early birthday present. Your birthday is on the 7th, isn't it? Two days before the ball?'

'Yes, but ...'

'No but!' I decided. I pulled out my credit card and gave it to her. 'Go and have fun!'

She gave me a kiss and a blinding smile. 'You're so sweet, Harry!'

For the next couple of hours, Willy and I didn't see much of our significant others. After the first boutique, we'd decided to settle down at a quiet table of a cafe in the middle of the mall and enjoy the excellent tropical fruit juices they offered. Every now and then Alvirah and Daphne would reappear and add another couple of shopping bags to the steadily growing pile on the empty chair between us, with the strict warning not to peek. It was well after lunch time when the two finally decided to call it a day and joined us at the cafe.

'Heavenly!' Daphne enthused, savouring the fresh papaya juice with closed eyes. 'That was exactly what I needed!'

She and Alvirah then began to divide the shopping bags among themselves. To my amazement, only very few belonged to Daphne. After a while, they'd recovered and were ready to go back to the ship.

In our suite, Daphne immediately handed me back my credit card. 'I hope you'll not be too shocked about the amount I spent, Harry,' she said nervously.

'I told you to have fun,' I replied and kissed her. From the price tags I'd had a look at I had a good idea what to expect.

Daphne gathered her bags and walked to the walk-in closet to put her purchases away. 'Don't look!' she warned me. 'I want to surprise you on the evening of the ball!' She looked back over her shoulder and winked at me. 'I've also bought a present for you. I'm sure you'll like it.'

I raised my eyebrows. 'And when will I get to see my present?'

'Tonight, if you're a good boy!'

I blushed, and Daphne disappeared into the walk-in closet with a giggle.

The next hours we spent lazing on the sun island, until the "Princess Isabella" left Hong Kong in the afternoon. Daphne and I stood at the railing while the "Princess Isabella" manoeuvred her way out of Victoria Harbour.

Somehow, I had the feeling that the best things were still to come.


	6. From Hong Kong to Colombo

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's Notes:** A big thank you to Srikanth1808, who graciously offered to beta this chapter. As you will see, my writing benefitted immensely from his help, even though we couldn't agree on which outside temperate can be considered as hot. ;) You're the best, Sri!

 **Beta's Notes:** Don't think I did a very good job the first time, so here's an updated version. I hope I've corrected all the mistakes, and that you enjoy it.

 **Author's Notes:** Don't listen to him. The mistakes were my fault because I was too dumb to operate MS Word. I hope this time I did it right.

 **HP - DG**

 **From Hong Kong to Colombo**

'What in the name of Merlin's unmentionables are you doing there, Harry?'

'Ouch!'

I hadn't expected her to finish her shower that soon; her sudden exclamation startled me, causing me to bump my head under the dining table where I was hunched on all fours. I crawled backwards, careful not to bump my head once again, and sat back on my haunches, while I rubbed the back of my head.

Daphne, clad in a terrycloth bathrobe and still towelling her hair, looked down at me, the corner of her mouth twitching. 'Care to explain what this is all about?' she asked, motioning with her hand to the few envelopes in my hand and the many more scattered all around the living room.

It was our first day back at sea. Daphne and I had just returned from our morning swim and were getting ready for the day.

'Well, I thought to get the mail out of the Banishing Box while you were in the shower. I somehow forgot about it ever since Okinawa.'

Daphne gasped. 'You haven't attended to your mail for what – two weeks? The goblins will have your hide, Harry!'

I nodded sheepishly. 'Yeah. The box was full to the brim, and when I opened it, it kind of exploded.' I gestured helplessly around the room. 'This is the result.'

To her credit I have to say that Daphne tried not to laugh – the key word being "tried"… She lowered her eyes and bit her lips, the corners of her mouth twitching. A moment later, however, the mirth bubbled up in her like a geyser, and she laughed until the tears streamed down her face.

'You're such a sweet idiot!' she informed me once she calmed down.

While I had no objections to being called sweet, I took offense at the idiot.

'I'm not!' I protested good-naturedly.

She bent down and kissed me. 'You are. Why don't you use a Summoning Charm, love?'

'With the bridge right below us? Heaven knows what magic will do to all the nautical equipment there! I'd rather not use magic on the floor if I don't have to.'

'You've got a point,' Daphne conceded. 'I'll help you, then. Move over.'

She also got down on all fours, and together we collected our mail within a short time.

'I was right. A few people who recognised me from the photos in the _Prophet_ sent me howlers,' Daphne said, waving a note from the goblins in her hand.

I stared at another note from the goblins on top of the pile I'd gathered, and clenched my teeth. Apparently, about half a dozen letters addressed to Daphne contained questionable content, and had been sent to the Auror department. 'I think you ought to look at this.'

Daphne paled when she read the note.

I stepped beside her and took her in my arms. 'I'm sorry, love. It's all my fault. You're made a target because they want to get back at me. Maybe you're better off without me.'

Daphne's demeanour instantly changed – her eyes hardened and she slapped me on the arm in return. Not too hard, but hard enough to tell me she meant business. 'Idiot! Firstly, you don't know if it's about you, Harry. Some Purebloods would also have taken offence if they'd seen me with a Weasley or a Muggleborn and sent me something nasty. Secondly, there's no safer place for me than right by your side, because these morons are too cowardly to cross you! And thirdly, my love, I'd suggest you start to employ your inner Slytherin when it comes to me, and not your Gryffindor side. I'm not a damsel in distress, you know!' By the end of her rant, however, her gaze had softened and she gave me a kiss on the cheek to take the sting out of her words.

I had to laugh at that, in spite of my concerns about her safety. 'Thanks for the roasting, Daphne!'

'Well, someone has to keep your superhero ego in check!' she grinned. Then she gave me a soft push. 'Get ready, Harry. I'll order breakfast while you're in the shower.'

I reluctantly stepped away from her. 'Don't you want to go down to the restaurant?'

'With that amount of mail on our hands?' She pointed at the rather high stack on the desk with raised eyebrows. 'We'll be lucky if we get everything out of the way during the next two days before we reach Saigon!'

'You're probably right,' I grimaced and went into the bathroom.

When I returned, our breakfast had been delivered to the suite and served on the veranda. Daphne sat at the table, sipping tea and sorting through the stack of letters. Most of them were for me, but there was also a rather bulky envelope for her.

'It's from dear Cousin Melissa,' she told me with a grimace.

'She's probably giving you a hard time again because she wants you to move in with them as soon as you're back in England,' I speculated as I sat down.

Daphne furrowed her eyebrows. 'Probably,' she replied, but her voice sounded slightly strained.

I looked up from my plate, which I had begun loading with food. 'Is something worrying you, Daphne?'

She sighed, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. 'If Melissa has read Skeeter's article, there are a few ways for her to make my life – difficult,' she said. 'I'll read her letter after breakfast. I don't want to spoil my appetite!'

I laughed at that and began to peruse my own mail. As I'd expected, most of it was from my Board of Advisors, and I resolved to deal with them as soon as I finished breakfast. There was also a letter from Hermione and another one from Ginny. I had expected to hear from them after I'd seen the article, so I wasn't surprised.

After breakfast, I went back into the living room and sat down at the desk there, while Daphne retreated to the sun island with the letter she'd received from her cousin Melissa. I was so immersed in my own work that I didn't look up for the next couple of hours. Around lunchtime, however, a somewhat lightheaded feeling, and a kink in my neck, reminded me that I needed a break. I stood up and stretched, then stepped out onto the veranda.

The sight that met me gave me a sense of _deja_ - _vue_. Daphne sat cross-legged on the sun island and was staring out into the vast expanse of water. I could only see her profile: it was a stony mask, a sure sign that she was in emotional turmoil.

I climbed on the sun island beside her and put an arm around her.

She started; clearly she'd been lost so deeply in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed my entrance. Her face softened as she turned her head to look at me, and she gave me a ghost of a smile.

'Want to talk about it?' I asked her.

She leaned against me with an unhappy sigh. 'No, I don't want to talk about it. But unfortunately, we'll need to talk about it.'

'Hmm! That bad?'

She sighed again. 'Even worse!'

'All right, don't talk in riddles, love! Spill it!'

'It's because of that Skeeter article in the _Prophet_. Until then nobody knew we were travelling together, and while Cousin Melissa wasn't thrilled about it, she wasn't overly concerned either, because she thought nobody would ever find out. But the article and especially the photos changed everything.' She stopped and bit her lip.

'Yeah, we did look rather intimate with each other in them,' I agreed.

'That's exactly what Cousin Melissa wrote. She says no one who's seen these photos would believe we're only friends.'

'Well, they'd be right,' I interrupted her with a grin.

That got her to grin as well, but I earned a light slap on the arm for my interruption.

'Prat!'

'Yeah, but a loveable prat,' I replied and kissed her.

She relaxed in my arms. 'That you are!' she agreed when we came up for air.

The dreamy look in her eyes made me want to kiss her again, but she forestalled me by putting her hands on my chest. 'No, don't distract me, love! We both didn't understand the repercussions that article would have in Pureblood circles when we saw it, Harry. I thought nobody would recognise me, but I was wrong: my dorm mates from Slytherin did, as did quite a lot of people my parents socialised with, and they all started to gossip.'

I shrugged. 'Let them talk. People have talked about me ever since I came to Hogwarts. That's another drawback of being the girlfriend of the Chosen One, I'm afraid. You'll always be in the spotlight.'

'This is not about being the girlfriend of the Chosen One,' she contradicted me. 'It's about keeping the family name taint-free. I've told you about the conduct that is expected of Pureblood girls and how little their opinion counts. Even though I'm the Head of House, I'm regarded as a young girl who has to be deferential to her elders. That means Melissa is in the position to haul me over the coals for tainting the Greengrass name. She's furious, Harry, not so much because she thinks I'm having an affair with you, but because I broke Pureblood law number one.'

'And that is?'

'Don't get caught,' she answered dryly. 'Unfortunately, I got caught, and now I'll have to pay the price.'

'Not you, we, love,' I replied and pulled her closer.

She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. 'You're sweet, Harry, but that's not how it works. For Purebloods, I'm the slut and you're the stud that scored with me.'

My grip around her shoulder tightened. 'Never again talk about yourself like that, love! No matter what, we'll in this together. If anyone has a problem with us travelling together, he or she can talk to me about it – if they dare.'

She leaned her head against my shoulder and chuckled softly. 'I'd love to see that!'

We lapsed into silence. Somehow, I knew she hadn't told me everything, so I asked after a couple of minutes, 'What did Melissa demand of you?'

Daphne let out a short laugh. 'You don't miss much, do you? Melissa has ordered me back to London. Though, what she'll achieve with that when the damage is already done, is beyond me.'

My heart missed a beat and then dropped into the pit of my stomach. I knew how much her family meant to Daphne, and that the thought of being in the middle of a Pureblood scandal must be rather painful for her. 'When will you leave?'

She raised her head from my shoulder and gave me another of her special looks that made my heart glow. 'Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I'll stay!' she replied and kissed me.

 **HP – DG**

We didn't talk about Melissa's demand again, though Daphne remained rather pensive. I tried my best to distract her, and persuaded her with a late al fresco lunch at the Lido café, and then to annihilate me in a couple of rounds of shuffleboard after that. Daphne's mood perked up during the afternoon and she was her usual self again when the butler brought the customary champagne and pralines to mark the start of the evening.

'I'll write to Melissa tomorrow and tell her to bugger off,' she told me over the rim of her glass.

I laughed at that. 'I sincerely hope you'll phrase your answer a trifle more politely, love.'

Daphne scrunched up her nose. 'Probably. But I'll make sure that she knows what I think!'

 **HP – DG**

As Daphne had prophesised, my Board of Advisors was furious with me for having been incommunicado for two weeks, so I spent the next morning at the desk, making up for my misconduct. When I was ready to send my mail through the Banishing Box, Daphne handed me her letter to Melissa to send it with the rest.

'I hope that'll shut her up for the remainder of the cruise,' she remarked as she watched me tapping the box with my wand.

Somehow I doubted that. Melissa hadn't seemed like the kind of woman to be silenced easily, and the persistence she showed trying to get Daphne to behave like a proper Pureblood only reinforced my opinion of her. I knew I was being selfish when I hoped that Daphne's stubbornness would turn out to be stronger than her persistence.

Daphne broke into my thoughts. 'You don't look convinced.'

'No, I'm not,' I admitted, slipping my wand back into its invisible holster.

Daphne sighed. 'Neither am I. But I can hope, can't I?'

I stood up from the desk and walked over to her. 'Daphne, I've been thinking ...' I began, but was not sure how to go on.

'You know that's dangerous, Harry!' she quipped. But then she looked into my face and sobered. 'Why are you so serious, love?'

I put my hands on her shoulder and drew her towards me. 'Do you remember what you said to me on the floor of your bedroom in the _Leaky Cauldron_?'

At first, she didn't understand, but then she blushed and nodded.

'You said you wouldn't mind to keep me around for the rest of your life, and I replied that could be arranged,' I said and brushed a strand of her hair out of her face.

She nodded, her eyes once again shining with that light that made me want to do anything to keep her happy for the rest of her life.

'I meant it,' I told her and tightened my embrace around her.

'I also meant every word,' she whispered.

I thought I'd known that. It was evident in every kiss she gave me and every time she looked at me. But to hear it from her almost made me to want to burst with happiness, and I couldn't help the goofy smile that spread over my face. My heart raced when I mustered all my Gryffindor courage to ask the next question. 'Look, love, we both know where we're heading. Won't it take the pressure off from you if we make it – official?'

At first, there was nothing but pure happiness on her face, and the light in her eyes almost blinded me. The next moment, however, the look of bliss gave way to one of determination.

My heart sank into the deepest pits of my stomach.

'As much as I'd love to say yes, Harry, this doesn't feel right,' she told me gently. 'I don't want to become engaged for the sake of Melissa, because she's afraid of her reputation in Pureblood circles. My own parents would never have expected that from me. My mother grew up among Muggles and always mocked the Victorian moral code of Britain's magical society. My father would have been scandalised, but he loved me enough to give me the freedom to make my own choices.'

I frowned at her words. 'I can't say that I don't understand your reasoning,' I replied with a sigh.

'We'll both know when the time is right, love,' she comforted me. Then she gave me an impish grin. 'I expect a grand romantic gesture then,' she told me. 'Rose petals, violins, you get the drift!'

'No, Daphne, honestly ...!' I stammered and blanched.

Her delighted laughter told me that she'd taken the mickey.

'Minx!' I told her and kissed her.

 **HP – DG**

I didn't come around to read Ginny and Hermione's letters until later that afternoon. Daphne gave me a sympathetic side glance when I climbed beside her on the sun island, the letters in my hand, but didn't comment. Instead, she immersed herself in the fashion magazines she'd bought on our way back to the suite after lunch.

Thankful that she had given me my space, I opened the letter from Ginny first.

 _Dearest,_

 _Why did you cheat on me with that slut? Have you forgotten all about the bond we share? I..._

I'd read enough and crumpled up the letter in my hand. That was sick!

Daphne gave me a questioning look.

'It's not worth reading it, even less repeating it,' I answered her silent question. The anger welled up in me again, and the small paper ball in my hand vanished.

'Impressive,' Daphne remarked and kissed me on the cheek. 'I had no idea you've practised wandless magic.'

I stared at the empty palm of my hand. 'I didn't. It was unintentional.'

Daphne chuckled. 'Don't you think you're a little old for accidental magic?' She put the magazine in her lap and snuggled up against me, her head on my shoulder and her arms around my waist. 'You know, love, I'll worm it out of you anyway, so you'd better tell me right away what she did to make you that angry and spare both of us a lot of headache and time we could use for a more pleasant activity.' She grinned at me suggestively.

I laughed and put my arm around her. 'If you put it that way, it seems the only logical course of action.'

Daphne's face sobered when I repeated the first sentence of Ginny's letter to her. 'I agree, that's sick. It's as if she's lost any connection to reality when it comes to you. By now, she must have realised that you are over her and moved on, but she seems to be clinging to a past that never was! I mean, what bond did you share?'

That was a tough question. Though Daphne knew about the unintentional Horcrux inside of me and Ginny's reaction when she found out, I'd never told her about Ginny's possession through Voldemort. It was not my secret to tell, and we hadn't been that close when we had talked about the Horcruxes that I trusted her enough to share that information. But that had surely changed during the last few weeks, so I took a deep breath and told her everything about the events of our second year at Hogwarts from my perspective.

Her face had a slightly green hue when I ended. 'Poor girl!' she said quietly. 'Did she ever get help to overcome that nightmare?'

'Not that I know of,' I replied. 'I think Mrs Weasley liked to pretend it never happened. Mr Weasley leaves the management of the house and the raising of the children completely to her...'

'In true Pureblood fashion,' Daphne interrupted me with a grimace.

That had never occurred to me before. 'You're right,' I told her. 'Whatever, Ginny was left to her own devices when she returned to Hogwarts for her second year. She'd missed a lot during her possession, and since she was never academically inclined, just like Ron, she struggled at school. That's something I found out during the few weeks we were together. She was working for her O.W.L.s back then, but even I could see that her work was below mediocre. The only subjects she excelled in was Defence, and of course Quidditch.'

'Much like you,' Daphne teased me. 'Maybe you aren't such a bad match after all!'

'You take that back!' I threatened and tickled her side. 'I'll have you to know that I'm no slouch in my other subjects, though I'm of course not as good as Hermione.'

Daphne shrieked, but quickly admitted defeat. 'Sorry, love, I couldn't resist,' she grinned and kissed me on the cheek. 'Nobody is as good as Granger. She's not human! But I can't see what the Weaslette's school problems have to do with her obsession with you.'

I ran a hand through my hair. 'Well, she was already infatuated with The-Boy-Who-Lived even before we started Hogwarts. That I rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets added only more fuel to that fire. All through her second year she'd sit in the common room and throw surreptitious glances at me. She thought I didn't notice it, but of course I did, and was rather embarrassed about it.'

'I can imagine!' Daphne chuckled. 'Any thirteen year old would have cringed at that.'

'Exactly!' I agreed. 'I didn't realise it back then but the events of her first year left her without any friends among her peers. All she had was her infatuation with me. I think Hermione was the only girl she talked to. However, she seemed to change during our fourth year and started dating. I didn't give her much thought in that year, to be honest.'

'You had other things to worry about,' Daphne replied.

'Don't remind me,' I chuckled mirthlessly. 'In our fifth year, she started talking to me. Not much, but she could be around me without embarrassing herself. Hermione told me that she'd got over me, and I actually was glad about that.'

Daphne gave me a shrewd side glance. 'Really? Come on, Harry, weren't you slightly disappointed that the little girl who'd hung onto every word you said had grown up?'

I blushed and laughed. 'Maybe a little. But with everything that was going on that year I didn't give it much thought.'

'Was it always like that with you? No, you don't have to tell me, it was! It's amazing that you never flunked out of school. I wonder how you ever found the time to do your homework!' Daphne sighed.

'I'm good at multi-tasking,' I grinned, which had her snort. 'Actually, Ginny was great during our fifth year. She helped me more than once when I'd hit a rough spot, and she came with me in that suicide mission at the Ministry.' I didn't have to explain that; Daphne already knew everything about that ever since we talked about Sirius.

Daphne's expression grew thoughtful. 'She'd changed her tactics. After all, getting over you is not quite the same as giving up on you,' she observed.

'You're probably right,' I agreed and dropped a kiss on her head. 'Well, our relationship changed the summer before our sixth year. I spent some time at the Burrow, and suddenly I started to notice Ginny.' I blushed, not sure if it was wise to talk with my current girlfriend about the way I fell for my ex.

'Go on,' she encouraged me. 'I promise I won't get jealous of your past.'

I still wasn't sure, but nevertheless proceeded to tell Daphne everything about the monster in my chest whenever I saw Ginny with Dean, and that the only way to calm it down seemed to be to spend as much time as possible snogging her when we finally got together.

Daphne's face had grown grim during my tale, and when I finally stopped, looking at her uneasily, she was quiet for a rather long time.

'Daphne?' I asked tentatively. I'd been right: it had been a mistake to talk to her about my relationship with Ginny!

She started, then looked at me with a smile. 'I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to worry you.' Again, the grim line appeared around her mouth. 'Harry, did it ever occur to you that you might have been fed a Love Potion during your stay at the Burrow that forced you to notice Ginny?'

I was taken aback. 'The Weasleys would never do that to me!'

'Wouldn't they?' She sounded doubtful. 'Honestly, Harry, I'm not so sure about that. What George told us about his mother digging out the Family Grimoire and looking up Love Potions points to another direction. Sorry, love, but everything about the way you reacted to her just screams Love Potion to me.'

I considered her words. She was right, the symptoms of a slow burning Love Potion with a delay element were all there. But then I shook my head. 'I don't think so. You forgot the time we were on the run. I really was heartbroken about her. Just ask Hermione; I spent every night obsessing over the Marauder's Map, looking for her dot at Hogwarts.'

'Withdrawal symptoms,' Daphne stated promptly. 'Quite a lot of common Love Potions leave that kind of behaviour if they are discontinued to be given to the victim. You should know that, Harry. It was in our Potions curriculum in our fourth year.'

That silenced me. I stared out to sea for a long time, my mind in upheaval. Everything I'd believed in during the last two years before Voldemort's downfall had suddenly been turned upside down. I pulled my arm from Daphne's shoulder and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my propped up knees and rubbing my head with both hands until my hair stuck out in every direction. 'Fuck!'

Daphne slid an arm around me and softly kissed the back of my shoulder. 'Yeah,' she agreed.

'Again, everything points at Ron and Ginny,' I said. 'Who else would be able to give me the potion while we were at Hogwarts?'

'True, but they must have had help. From what I saw of the Weasel during our Potions classes, he wasn't able to brew a simple Boil Curing Potion. I also doubt the Weaslette would be able to brew such a Potion. Do you think Granger was also part of the plan?'

'Please, Merlin, no! Not Hermione too!' I groaned, and Daphne tightened her grip around my shoulder in silent comfort.

We were silent for a rather long time, I thinking about the bomb Daphne had just placed in front of my nose, and Daphne giving me comfort.

'I don't think so,' I eventually said. 'She was the one who always stuck with me when Ron had one of his bouts of jealousy. Mrs Weasley is more likely, I think. She seems to have a penchant for Love Potions. I remember that she told Ginny and Hermione of having used one on her husband.'

Daphne made a face. 'No wonder the Weaslette or the Weasel didn't think twice to use one on you!'

'Yeah, but we'll probably never be able to prove it, unless they try it again,' I agreed.

'Probably not!' Daphne nodded.

I sighed and looked at the other letter I'd brought with me to the sun island and grimaced. 'I'm almost afraid to open it. Merlin knows what Hermione will throw at me.'

'What a brave Gryffindor,' Daphne quipped and kissed me on the cheek. 'Get it over with, Harry. You'll feel better after that.' She pulled her discarded magazines towards her and leaned back in the cushions, resuming her reading.

I opened the letter and started reading.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Thank you for your long letter, I think that was the longest letter I've ever got from you! I'm glad that you told me what you've been up to since you left the Burrow. Ron and I have been quite worried about you._

 _I am especially glad you decided to undergo therapy. To be honest, I often thought you needed professional help during our school days, considering everything you had to go through._

 _You must be thrilled that you've found out more about your family! Though, it seems to me that a few things are quite different than what you thought before. You must tell us about that soon. You sound like a patriarch when you talk about managing your family holdings – is it really that much? From what Ron told me about the contents of your vault, I know you are rich, but surely not as rich as the Malfoys!_

 _How nice for you that you are travelling! I've read about the "Princess Isabella" and I envy you. You must tell me everything about the places you visited when you return. Though I am amazed at your choice. The "Princess Isabella" is among the most expensive luxury cruise ships in the world. That's so unlike you, Harry, you really shouldn't squander your money like that!_

 _The fact that I know you are on the "Princess Isabella" probably answers your question if I have read the article about you in the_ Daily Prophet _. Yes, I did read it, and if you hadn't already told me in your letter that you're interested in someone, it would probably have had me faint like a Victorian lady! You and Daphne Greengrass, the Ice Queen of Slytherin? I can't think of a more unlikely couple._

 _You look different in the photos, with a new haircut and posh clothes. Is that Greengrass' work? I almost didn't recognised you! What's got into you, Harry? You used to be a frugal and modest boy. Cruising around the world on a luxury ship is something I'd have expected from Malfoy, but never from you! Greengrass must have changed you quite a lot, and I'm not happy about that._

 _I won't help you to take the easy route away from Ginny, Harry. It's appalling how you treated her. I'd never have thought you would be the kind of guy who sweet talks a girl into sleeping with him and then walks away!_

 _Ron is still furious with you because of that, and he's got every right to be so! You know how conservative the magical world is. Taking away Ginny's virginity and not marrying her is an insult to the whole Weasley family! Of course he is furious that you are together with Greengrass. I can't blame him on that. She's from a very dark family, Mrs Weasley told me. I can't believe you fell for a girl who stands for everything we fought against! It makes me wonder if your feelings for her are real or the result of a Love Potion. Be careful, Harry, she is probably after your money!_

 _I hope to hear from you again soon!_

 _Your friend,_

 _Hermione_

I placed the letter back on my lap and sighed.

Daphne looked up from her magazines. 'That bad?'

'Hermione seems to think that you used a Love Potion on me because you're after my money. She also thinks I've slept with Ginny and walked out on her as soon as I got what I wanted,' I told her, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

'Unbelievable!' Daphne shook her head. She pushed the magazines away and scrambled onto my lap. She linked her arms behind my neck and gave me a light peck on the lips. 'Her letter actually would be amusing if you weren't that vexed about it. That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?'

My arms instinctively slipped around her waist and I pulled her closer to me, relishing the comfort our closeness gave me. 'Yeah, but the bad thing is that Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Mrs Weasley probably will advertise their opinion to anyone who's willing to listen to them. Can you imagine the gossip that'll greet us when we're back home? People will be ready to tear and feather you, Daphne!'

She was unfazed. 'Then it's a good thing that the draft of Skeeter's article arrived today. I've already proofread it. Skeeter kept her side of the bargain, so I suggest we send it back to her as soon as you've also had a look, and preempt the gossip.'

'My sly little snake!' I grinned and covered her mouth with my lips.

Suffice to say that I didn't come around to read the draft of Skeeter's article until much later that day.

 **HP - DG**

We were distracted from our worries about delusional, Love-Potion-delivering ex-girlfriends, meddling cousins and gossiping and scheming friends by a visit to Saigon. The ship's shuttle dropped us off at the Rex Hotel. Daphne and I had booked a cookery course. Our teacher and guide was already waiting for us at the hotel.

At first, we had a short sightseeing tour of Saigon. The almost eight years I'd spent so far in the magical world had contained more than a small share of adventure and excitement, but nothing during that time had prepared me for the sheer, utter chaos that was Saigon. The streets, and sometimes even the sidewalks, were controlled by motorbikes. Lots and lots of motorbikes.

Our guide had told us that the sights he'd show us were within easy walking distance of the hotel. That was easier said than done.

'It's like walking through an obstacle course,' Daphne had laughed. We constantly had to be on the lookout for motorbikes using the sidewalk as a shortcut, jump over obstacles in our way, navigate around businesses that displayed their goods on the sidewalk and brave the adventure of crossing the rivers of motorcycle traffic. The heat and the traffic fumes where overwhelming, and I felt beads of sweat forming on my back and running down between my shoulder blades.

The adventure ended temporarily at the Bitexo Financial Tower, where we took the elevator to the Saigon Skydeck on the 49th floor. The view of the city and the Mekong River was breath-taking. Our guide pointed out the landmarks of the city, but soon ushered us back on the crowded street.

The next stop was a wet market that took place in a narrow side alley.

'This place gives the word crowded a whole new meaning,' I said to Daphne.

'That's an understatement - it's jam-packed!' Daphne exclaimed and grabbed my hand tightly.

Compared to the alley we were about to enter, Diagon Alley was a broad boulevard and as calm as Privet Drive on a Sunday afternoon. Innumerable shops lined the narrow alley, their goods on display on the street and narrowing the space between the two sides of the alley even more. We had to squeeze through walking one behind the other. Daphne held my hand in a death grip, afraid to get lost in the crowd, and I admit I was tempted to grab our guide by the shirt tails for the same reason.

The colourful array and quantity of the many different vegetables, herbs, meats, fish and spices for sale were mind blowing, as were the noise and the many odours of fish, herbs and spices that permeated the air. Our guide introduced us to the many vegetables and spices that were new to us, and bought the ingredients we'd need for the meal he wanted to prepare with us.

The cookery course took place in an annexe of the Rex Hotel. We prepared fried spring rolls, a salad of lotus roots, pork and shrimps, caramelised fish cooked in a traditional clay pot, steamed fish with vegetables and a dip made of lots of garlic, chili and fish sauce.

It soon became evident that Daphne was used to house elves and never had had to work in the kitchen.

'Ouch!' she exclaimed and sucked her thumb.

I bit on the inside of my cheeks to prevent my laughter.

She glared at me. 'Not. A. Word, Potter!'

While our guide went and got a patch, I asked under my breath, 'How did you ever manage in Potions?'

That got me another glare, but then she relented. 'Tracey did the cutting and preparing, while I did the actual brewing,' she whispered back, just in time before our guide returned with the patch. Daphne thanked him with a broad smile.

Soon after that, the meal was finished, and we sat down to sample the result of our work. It was simply delicious, and I fell in love with the Vietnamese kitchen that day.

Daphne rolled her eyes in delight while she bit into the crispy spring rolls. 'That's absolutely divine!' she enthused.

As a result, we both ate much more than we'd thought possible and were pleasantly filled and tired when we bade good bye to our teacher and guide. It was not yet time for the ship's shuttle to return, but Daphne and I were too full and tired to venture out onto the street once more. Instead, on recommendation of our guide we went to the rooftop restaurant of the hotel and sipped on the fantastic Vietnamese coffee while we watched the crazy life on the streets from high above.

It was a lazy and relaxed way to end our day in Saigon.

Of course it didn't stay like that – I had learned long ago that my life was rarely ever always relaxed; the day in Saigon had been nothing than a small reprieve from the parties that haunted us. The next morning, the Banishing Box brought me another letter from Kingsley, containing the "Daily Prophet" with the exclusive interview we'd given Skeeter.

Daphne and I sat side by side on the sun island when we read it.

 _ **Love Blossoms out of Tragedy!**_

 _Chosen One talks about Love and Plans_

 _by_

 _Rita Skeeter_

'That's as bad as I'd feared!' I groaned.

Daphne shook her head at me. 'You've approved it, Harry!'

'True, but it somehow looks worse when it's printed in the newspaper,' I replied.

'Get used to it or raise objections when you proofread, but don't whine afterwards,' Daphne told me without the slightest trace of sympathy.

I wisely decided to keep my mouth shut and continued to read the article. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad. Skeeter had kept her end of the bargain and printed the version of the interview that had been approved by Daphne and me. It covered everything we'd talked about at the _Leaky Cauldron_ and lacked any of the extra embellishments Skeeter was so fond of. The only addition we hadn't approved beforehand was a hint about an interesting announcement that was to be expected from us soon.

'I'm sorry, Harry, I had no clue that she was going to print that,' Daphne said after we'd finished the article.

'It wasn't entirely unexpected,' I shrugged. 'After all, she did ask about an impending engagement and I didn't deny it.'

Daphne blushed. 'I don't want you to feel as if you're forced into something, Harry!'

I burst out laughing. 'Daphne, love, I think I've proved often enough that it's impossible to force me into something I am not behind one hundred percent!' I put my arms around her and drew her close to me. 'Besides that, you know as well as I where we are heading. We set the pace, Daphne. Not some obnoxious reporter who wants a headline or your cousin who wants to prevent a scandal in Pureblood circles. It will happen when we both think it's right, don't you agree?'

Her blush got deeper, but she didn't avert her eyes and nodded.

'Good!' I smiled and gave her a peck on the lips. Then I turned to Kingsley's letter. To my amazement he was very supportive of my relationship with Daphne.

 _Politically, you made a very good choice, Harry,_ he wrote. _The Greengrass are traditionally a neutral family. Your relationship with a daughter from a neutral Pureblood family will go a long way to heal the breaches in our society._

I wasn't that convinced, considering the howlers Daphne got from her friends, but it was nice to know that at least one of my friends wasn't against me. At this stage of my life I was more inclined to listen to Kingsley's advice, anyway, than to Ron and Hermione.

I turned to the rest of my letters. To my surprise, I had received a letter from Matthew, Melissa's husband. Under the pretext to have to work on my mail from the goblins, I took Matthew's letter and returned to the living room.

 _Harry,_

 _I'd rather talk to you in person, but this is a matter that can't be delayed. You know that Melissa and I weren't thrilled about your and Daphne's travelling arrangements when we met in San Francisco, but we decided to let it be, because it never occurred to us that they'd become public._

 _Unfortunately, that has happened. By now, Daphne must have taught you enough about Pureblood customs that you'll know what the only honourable course of action has to be for you. I know that Daphne has a rebellious streak when it comes to the traditions of her circles, but I trust that you are honourable and sensible enough to prevent her from the repercussions of her ill choices._

 _Yours, Matthew_

I grimaced inwardly. Now I could imagine what kind of pressure Daphne was under from her cousin; it made me appreciate it even more that she still was with me.

Was it right of us to wait for the perfect moment to get engaged? Shouldn't we do it right now to take the pressure off of Daphne? I propped up my elbows on the desk and took my head between my hands. My gut feeling told me to wait, but the Gryffindor in me felt compelled to do the noble thing.

When Daphne came in from the veranda and asked me to have lunch with her, I still hadn't come to a decision.

'Was that Matthew's handwriting I saw on one of your letters?' she asked when we sat down with our sandwiches at one of the small tables outside of the Lido cafe.

'Uh – yes,' I replied, unwilling to lie to her.

She gave me a sharp look over her sandwich. 'Harry, about what you said earlier – we set the pace, remember? Not Cousin Matthew!'

'Yes, love!' I grinned at her, but even I know it was a weak grin.

'Don't you forget it!' she warned and bit into her sandwich.

 **HP – DG**

The "Princess Isabella" reached Singapore, then headed to Port Klang, and after that to Penang. For three days in a row Daphne and I didn't think of touching the Banishing Box and letting the outside world get in our way. For three blessed days we were able to pretend we were just another young couple in love, and not Daphne Greengrass, Head of House Greengrass and member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and Harry Potter, Chosen One, Saviour of the Light and a dozen more silly monikers, who had every eye of the magical world turned on them.

Of course, Skeeter's interview in the _Daily Prophet_ had brought both Daphne and me another round of Howlers. They were mostly from witches who were disappointed that I was off the market, so to speak, and wanted to convey their displeasure to Daphne or me or even both of us. Though their behaviour was vexing, it was harmless. To my relief, the goblins hadn't filtered out any more potential dangerous mail to Daphne.

All of that was far from our minds as we ambled alongside the Swan Lake of Singapore Botanic Garden. Compared to the activities we normally chose for our excursions, it was a rather tame way to spend our day, but Daphne obviously loved it. It was amazing how much she knew about plants. When we came to the Healing Garden, she was able to identify the plants on exhibition and tell me about their properties.

'You're as good as Neville when it comes to Herbology!' I complimented her.

Daphne – quite adorably - scrunched up her nose. 'Almost. He beat me by one point when we took the O.W.L.s. But you're right. Herbology is my best subject and I'd love to do something related to that after I've got my N.E.W.T.s. Unfortunately, managing Greengrass Shipping and being on the Wizengamot will take up most of my time. Of course I also want to have time for my family, in case I'll have one.'

'I wouldn't worry about that,' I replied and pulled her closer towards me. 'I'm sure you'll have a family one day.'

Daphne smiled and kissed my cheek. 'I don't, love.' When we continued our walk, she leaned her head against my shoulders and said, 'I am an only child. That makes for a rather lonesome childhood, and I've always dreamt about having siblings.'

'Me, too,' I admitted and dropped a kiss on her head.

'Two or three children would be nice,' she daydreamed.

'Or four,' I agreed. That earned me a sharp elbow in the side.

'Hold your Hippogriffs! You don't have to pop them out, mister!'

We laughed, and the size of our future family wasn't discussed any longer when we walked to the Food Canopy for a sandwich and fresh juice before we explored the National Orchid Garden.

Later in the afternoon we took a taxi to Raffles Hotel. We'd promised to meet the Meehans in the Long Bar for a drink. Alvirah and Daphne both had a Singapore Sling, a drink that had been invented at Raffles Hotel. Willy and I didn't trust our ability to deal with an alcoholic drink in the hot and humid climate of Singapore, and opted for the non-alcoholic version. That earned us some teasing from our significant others.

'Someone has to stay sober and make sure you get back on board in time,' Willy told them serenely and took a sip of his Virgin Sling.

Of course, he and I had been right. Alvirah and Daphne both were rather tipsy on the short taxi drive back to the "Princess Isabella".

Back in our suite, Daphne went straight to the sofa and dropped down. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 'Just a minute and I'll be ready to take a shower,' she murmured.

I grinned and went into the walk-in wardrobe to get fresh clothes for the evening. When I returned, Daphne was sound asleep, so I decided to take advantage of that and hit the shower before her. She was still asleep when I came back, and didn't wake up when the butler brought the customary champagne and pralines to our suite.

I decided to let her sleep it off and settled down on the sun island with my mystery novel and a glass of champagne, while the "Princess Isabella" left Singapore.

The sun had already set in the west in a stunning display of reds, golds and oranges, and Singapore was far behind us when Daphne finally woke up and came out onto the veranda. The chain of lights that spanned the "Princess Isabella" from the bow to the stern cast a faint light onto the veranda, and I had long ago put my book to the side. 'Don't you dare say "I told you so"!' she warned me and snuggled up to me, stifling a yawn. 'Merlin, I'm still tired!'

I put my arm around her shoulder so she could lean against me more comfortably. 'I'd never do that,' I replied, suppressing a laugh.

'Good for you!' Daphne yawned. 'Right, I'll have a shower and then I'll go to bed!' she announced and got off the sun island. At the door, she stopped and threw a saucy look over her shoulder. 'Don't you want to join me, love?'

I didn't have to be told twice.

 **HP – DG**

As nice as our co-travellers were, especially Alvirah and Willy, they were also much older than us. Daphne and I had found out that we had more fun if it was only the two of us and we didn't have to be considerate of the restrictions of elderly people. That's why we ventured out to explore Kuala Lumpur on our own, instead of joining the sedate tour offered by the cruise company.

The first stop was at the newly completed Petronas Twin Towers. Our taxi driver managed to drop us off as close as possible. Daphne and I looked up at the towers that loomed in front of us.

'Wow!' Daphne breathed. 'They are tall, aren't they?'

'They're the tallest buildings in the world,' I replied.

We had pre-ordered, skip-the-lines tickets, obtained by the cruise company for us, so Daphne and I were able to walk past the long lines in front of the ticket counters and at once enter one of the elevators that would bring us to the spectacular Skybridge that connected the two towers.

The elevator ride up to the Skybridge on the 41st floor was fast, almost as fast as accelerating on my beloved Firebolt, and I felt a huge grin spread over my face.

Daphne however, got slightly green in the face. 'It's as if you're catapulted up, but your stomach stays behind,' she groaned, clinging to my arm.

I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. 'When we're back home, I'll get myself a new broom and then I'll show you what real fun is,' I whispered in her ear.

The look she gave me in return could have turned water to ice on the spot on this hot and humid Malaysian morning. 'I can hardly wait,' she deadpanned.

I was still sniggering to myself when the elevator stopped and let us out on the Skybridge. We were 170 metres above the ground, and the view from here onto the streets below us and the towers on each side of the Skybridge was stunning. As always, Daphne needed some time to get used to the height, but as soon as she'd overcome her fear, she had as much fun as I did.

We were allowed to remain on the Skybridge for ten minutes to take photos and enjoy the view, before we were ushered back to the elevator.

Another stomach-turning ride brought us up to the Observation Deck on level 86. From here, we had a 360-degree view over Kuala Lumpur. Unfortunately, it was a hazy day, so the view was somewhat limited, but we still had an impressive view from the pinnacle of the first tower. Daphne asked a Canadian tourist to take a picture of the two of us with the pinnacle in the background, which glinted in the early morning sun. We barely had time to take the photo before we were quickly ushered back to the elevator.

The tour ended at the obligatory gift shop, but we weaved our way through the customers and the offers. When we stepped out of the building, we discovered Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre Park. It was like a green oasis in the hustle and bustle of the amazingly modern Malaysian capital, so we decided to take a stroll through the park and escape the heat and humidity of the city.

The park offered pleasant, shady walks and a fascinating and unusual view on the skyline of Kuala Lumpur. We ambled along the lake, holding hands.

'It reminds me of walking through New York Central Park,' Daphne remarked when we looked back at the Petronas Twin Towers.

'You've been there?' I asked.

'Quite often, actually. Whenever Mum took me to New York, we took the time to visit the park,' she replied and smiled at the memory, though her eyes were sad.

This was new. Usually, she'd tear up whenever something reminded her of her mother, and needed some time to compose herself.

As if she'd read my thoughts, she said softly, 'It's got better, you know. Thanks to you I don't feel as if I'm all alone in the world anymore.'

Our eyes met and I leaned closer to kiss her, but jumped when a fat raindrop hit my nose.

Daphne giggled. Another raindrop fell on her nose, and she shrieked.

Before we knew what happened, the skies opened and we were hit by a veritable downpour. Laughing, we ran for shelter to the entrance of the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre. Since it didn't look like it would stop raining any time soon, we decided to take a look around. Doing so allowed us to discover the Aquaria KLCC.

What started as a way to pass time until the rain stopped ended with a fascinating tour of the underwater world, from the misty highlands along the riverbanks and out into the deep ocean. Daphne and I hadn't seen anything like that before and were fascinated.

Daphne fell in love with the playful Asian Otter. 'I'd love to have one as a familiar,' she smiled.

'Merlin help us!' I replied as we walked to the next exhibition. 'Can you imagine the havoc these little critters could create?'

'Yeah, but it would be quite amusing,' she replied.

'Not in my house!' I put my foot down, and we both laughed.

The highlight of the aquarium surely was the long underwater tunnel where sharks swam over our heads. We had a front row look of their jaws with the murderous teeth.

Daphne shuddered and huddled against me. 'Do you still want to go shark diving in Cape Town, Harry?'

'Yes,' I admitted while I followed the graceful movements of the predator above my head with my eyes. 'You can't deny that they are fascinating animals!'

'Point taken,' Daphne conceded, though I could see by the doubtful expression on her face that she was not at all convinced. She perked up when we reached the sea turtles though, and was mesmerised by the aqua theatre, a huge glass panel in front of a gigantic water tank with schools of fish floating behind.

When we finally resurfaced from the ocean to solid ground, it was already lunchtime. We decided we'd seen enough of KLCC and that it was time to explore the rest of the city. One of our co-travellers had recommended the Central Market, and we took a taxi to get there.

Central Market was a recently renovated, two-storey art-deco building that offered an abundance of shops selling clothes, jewellery, traditional batik prints and other handicrafts.

'It's like walking through Aladdin's cave,' I remarked as we made our way to the foot court on the second floor, and promptly had to explain the fairy tale of Aladdin to Daphne during lunch. The small restaurant had been a recommendation of our taxi driver. The owner was one of his cousins, who served us a fantastic chicken rice, which was a local speciality, as he told us.

'It's fantastic!' Daphne said and took another bite of the crispy, yet tender chicken.

'Absolutely!' I agreed and wiped my mouth with my napkin. 'I never had the opportunity to try exotic food when I was living with the Dursleys,' I told her and took a sip of my coke. 'My uncle would rather have starved then to eat foreign muck, as he phrased it. My aunt could hardly persuade him to have Italian food when they had guests. It was only because his beloved Dudders was hooked on pizza and spaghetti that he tolerated it.'

She gave me a thoughtful glance. 'Harry, have you seen your relatives at all after the war?'

I evaded her eyes and shook my head. 'No. What's the use in that? There's no love lost between us. The less we see of each other, the better off we all are.'

Her soft hand grabbed mine and she linked her fingers with mine. 'You're filled with bitterness, love, and that's understandable. But I think you ought to talk to them one last time. You need closure, Harry, for your own sake.'

Still avoiding her eyes, I grumbled at that.

She squeezed my hand. 'Think about it!' Then she pulled her hand away and changed the topic. 'Any idea what to do for the remainder of the day?'

I did not, but I did have the good sense to ask the owner of the restaurant. He recommended Perdana Botanical Garden with the Kuala Lumpur Bird Park. It was within walking distance of the Central Market, and equipped with the directions the friendly owner of the restaurant had given us, we left Central Market and walked to Perdana Botanical Garden.

It turned out to be a huge park in the middle of Kuala Lumpur. The aviaries of the bird park were enormous, allowing the birds to fly over our heads and around us while we walked through the beautifully landscaped park.

Daphne laughed out loud when she discovered the Indian Peacock. 'Doesn't he look like Malfoy? Just as conceited and vain!'

'Yeah, but I still liked him best as a bouncing ferret,' I agreed. She had a point, though. The way the peacock strutted over the path in front of us bore a strong resemblance to Malfoy when he strutted through the halls of Hogwarts.

'I wonder if he's still strutting around,' I mused.

'I doubt that,' Daphne replied and linked her arm with mine. 'Last thing I heard of him was that he was placed under house arrest by the Ministry to wait for his trial.'

'Don't remind me,' I grimaced. 'Kingsley wrote me the other day that the trials would all begin in May, after Memorial Week. I'm a witness in quite a lot of them.'

She leaned her head against my shoulder. 'Then let's not think about it now, Harry. The remnants of the war will catch up with us as soon as we're back home. Let it not spoil the last few weeks of the cruise!'

I agreed, and Malfoy and the war weren't mentioned for the rest of the day. Instead, we visited the parrot aviary and were allowed to feed the colourful birds that were so trusting – or greedy – that they settled down on our shoulders to get better access to the treats. The tour ended with a visit to the impressing hornbills that were native to Asia.

'I'm spent,' Daphne said when we left the last aviary. The heat and humidity had become worse after lunch.

'A long, cold shower would be nice,' I agreed.

'Or a long swim,' Daphne suggested. 'I don't know about you, but I've seen enough of Kuala Lumpur. Why don't we return to the ship and make good use of the pool as long as the other passengers are still sightseeing?'

We hailed a taxi that brought us back to Port Klang's cruise terminal.

Daphne had been right; the pool was deserted, and we had a refreshing time in the water. After that we settled down on the sun island on the veranda of our suite with a cold coke. While the cruise terminal was in an industrial area that didn't offer much to look at, the view on the other side looked out on an island covered with dense mangrove woods, and we watched the sun slowly disappear behind the woods.

 **HP - DG**

Penang was as hot and humid as Kuala Lumpur. While most of the elderly passengers had opted to educate themselves on a tour visiting the historical George Town and the Buddhist temples, Daphne and I had decided that we had enough of sightseeing and needed a relaxed day on the beach.

A boat picked us up at the pier for a 30-minute ride over crystal clear waters to Monkey Beach. We were the only passengers today, which was a nice surprise. The boat trip alone was already worth it. The skipper and his friend asked us if we'd like to fish. Neither Daphne nor I had ever fished before, and of course we were curious to try out something new. The fish there must have been really hungry, because within a few minutes Daphne and I both had caught two fish for our barbeque lunch.

'Good for you, or you'd have stayed hungry today,' Daphne quipped and kissed me.

'There are always the coconuts on the palm trees,' I fired back with equal humour.

For the remainder of the boat trip we took a seat in the stern of the boat and enjoyed the scenery, especially the abundant wildlife. We saw a couple of sea eagles on the hunt, and once even a fish otter popped its head out of the water near the boat.

Monkey Beach turned out to be a crescent beach on an uninhabited island. A barbeque area had been put up for the tourists, and a couple of hammocks swung in the light sea breeze in the shade of some huge trees. There wasn't much to do here except swimming and lazing, but the warm sea breeze brought a welcomed relief from the heat and humidity of the Malaysian climate.

'Perfect!' Daphne exclaimed and hugged me.

We had a long swim, goofing around in the tepid water like small children. After that, we made ourselves comfortable in the hammocks, reading and dozing. Ever so often Daphne would reach out with her hand and touch me, giving me a soft smile while she did so. In spite of our laziness, the morning passed quickly, and we were both amazed when our guides called out to us that lunch was ready.

Lunch was simple, yet excellent, with an amazing variety of food. Besides the fish we'd caught in the morning, we were also served prawns, satay, sausages, chops and chicken, together with a simple salad and followed by fresh fruit.

'I wish I could stay here forever,' Daphne said, leaned against my chest, as we sat in the shade of a tree after lunch. 'No relatives or "well-meaning" friends, no one here to harass us...'

'Yeah, that sounds too good to be true,' I agreed and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. 'Unfortunately, my love, you as well as I have obligations outside of this island. Neither Greengrass Shipping nor the Potter Holdings are going to manage themselves, not to mention our seats on the Wizengamot. I'd hate to see those dunderheads once again destroy everything I've been fighting for!'

'Spoilsport!' she pouted.

I laughed and hugged her closer to me, while we enjoyed our siesta in the shade until it was time to return back to the "Princess Isabella".

 **HP – DG**

The next morning we were brought back to reality in form of the buzzing Banishing Box when we returned from breakfast.

'Throw it over board, Harry!' Daphne exclaimed theatrically. She dropped down on the sofa and covered her ears with her hands.

I laughed at her and tapped with the wand against the box to get our mail. The laughter died on my lips when I found three letters from Ginny in the box. 'What the...' I cursed.

Daphne gave me a mock-reproachful look. However, the expletive she used when I handed her another letter from Melissa made me whistle appreciatively.

'My, my, I'd never have thought I'll hear a proper Pureblood girl use such foul language!' I grinned.

She ignored me and tore the letter open. 'Melissa is furious that I refused to return to England,' she told me after she'd read it.

'Well, anything else would have been a surprise,' I replied, while I sat down at the desk and opened the letters I'd received from my Financial Advisors.

'Yeah, but...' she trailed off abruptly

I looked up from my letter and noticed her worrying her lower lip between her teeth, always a sign that something was bothering her. 'What's the matter, love?' I asked.

'Melissa wrote that she'll have to take action if I refuse to come back to England and live with them. I'm worried what she'll do,' Daphne replied.

'What can she do? You're a grown up woman and Head of House Greengrass. I'd say it would be difficult for her to get you to do something you don't want to do,' I tried to comfort her.

'You're probably right,' she agreed, but didn't sound convinced. 'Aren't you curious what the Weaslette wrote to you?'

That was as evident a diversionary tactic as there could be one, but I decided to let it go for the time being. She would talk to me after coming to grips with Melissa's letter, I was sure. She wouldn't make the same mistake she'd made after the ball again.

'Not at all,' I told her. 'There'll be time enough for that nonsense after I've finished to deal with the things I really need to take care of. I've promised my girlfriend to let her beat me at shuffleboard this afternoon!'

 **HP – DG**

I stuck to my word. After I'd fulfilled my duties to the Potter Holdings, Daphne and I went to lunch and afterwards, joined a hot shuffleboard competition, together with the Meehans. The competition ended at the Pool Bar, and it was already late in the afternoon when we returned to the suite.

'That was fun!' Daphne exclaimed and made herself comfortable on the sun island.

'Absolutely!' I agreed and motioned to join her, but she kept me from that.

'What about the letters from the Weaslette?'

Of course I'd forgot about them, and I groaned. 'Must I really read them?'

'It's always good to know what the enemy is thinking,' Daphne replied.

'You're exaggerating, Daphne,' I said over my shoulder as I went back into the living room to get Ginny's letters from my desk. 'I don't consider Ginny as my enemy.'

'I wouldn't be so sure about that,' Daphne called after me. 'At least not as long as you don't know who gave that Love Potion to you.'

I grabbed the letters and returned to the veranda. 'We aren't even sure that I was given a Love Potion,' I reminded her. 'It's an assumption we made, based on the symptoms I've shown.'

'True, but call it a gut feeling, I just know they did something to you!' Daphne replied and made room for me when I sat down on the sun island.

'Where have you left your Slytherin brain?' I shook my head at her. 'Acting on assumptions and gut feelings is usually my part. You're supposed to be the voice of logic here!'

She laughed at that and gave me a kiss on the cheek. 'I admit that I'm a bit prejudiced when it comes to the Weaslette.'

'I'd never have noticed that if you hadn't mentioned it,' I quipped while I opened the letters.

That earned me a slap on the arm.

'Prat!'

'Yes, but you love me nevertheless,' I replied and kissed her.

'Don't think you can put off the inevitable by distracting me!' Daphne told me. 'What has she written?'

I sighed, and sorted the three letters by the date. Then I started reading. The blush crept into my cheeks after I read the first few sentences, and I shifted in my seat.

'What has you so flustered, Harry?' Daphne asked.

I looked up from the letter into her concerned eyes. 'Uh – Ginny describes in great detail our "first time". Only – I never touched her that way, I swear!'

Daphne's brows furrowed. 'You already said after her last letter that she's lost the connection to reality when it comes to you. Is this along the same lines?'

'Even worse! But see for yourself!' I replied and gave her the letter.

She started reading. The frown never left her face, though she also blushed fiercely. Contrary to me, she managed to read the whole letter. 'That's damned porn!' she exclaimed after she'd finished and put the letter beside her, wiping her fingers at her chinos as if she'd touched something dirty. 'Are the other two letters also like that?'

I hadn't had the courage to read them yet, but now did a quick scan. 'Yep!' I confirmed. 'She's describing the following days in them.'

The deep frown still not had left Daphne's face, and I was starting to get worried. 'I swear, Daphne, nothing of that is true!'

She looked up at me, her face brightening with laughter. 'You don't have to tell me that, Harry! Some of the things she describes are physically impossible!'

We both burst out laughing. The laughter cleared away the tension I'd felt. I reached out for the letters again. 'Let's put them where they belong, in the dustbin!'

But Daphne held me back. 'Wait, Harry, you'd better not throw them away, but collect them. I've got a feeling that this is only the beginning of something rather nasty.'

Daphne's feeling turned out be right. The next morning brought another letter from Ginny. I turned it in my hand over and over again, not sure what I should do with it.

'Open it, Harry, and get it over with!' Daphne advised.

I grimaced. 'I don't want to lose my breakfast.'

'Wimp!' she replied and took the letter from me with a soft kiss on my cheek. She tore it open and quickly scanned it. 'It's about the same as the others,' she told me. 'You'll be happy to know that your performance was incredible, Harry.' She looked up and grinned at me.

I puffed my chest, and we both laughed.

'I'll put it with the other letters,' Daphne announced. 'At least Cousin Melissa left us in peace for today.'

For the rest of the day we ignored our problems. I started working with the dossiers Daphne had prepared for me about the current members of the Wizengamot. She'd pointed out that twenty-six of the sixty seats still belonged to members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Coincidentally, many of them were also Death Eaters. Quite a lot of them had been killed or captured after the Battle of Hogwarts. That gave me an idea.

'What are you doing there?' Daphne asked, looking over my shoulder.

'I try to strip off a few votes from the Dark Fraction of the Wizengamot,' I told her.

She snorted. 'Good luck with that! I'd say hell will freeze over before the dark families will change their tunes!'

'They don't need to change their tunes. I'm after their seats,' I replied.

That got her attention. She pulled a chair up to the desk and sat down beside me. 'How is that possible?'

'Actually, it's something you told me when we talked about the Black seat. You said a seat can be revoked if the inhabitant is found guilty of the murder or attempted murder of a witch or wizard,' I explained.

She at once grasped what I was after. 'You would think that most Death Eaters are guilty of a murder or two! That's brilliant, Harry!' She gave me a peck on the cheek. 'Let's see, who are the possible candidates?' She pulled the list I was just working on towards her.

'Those are the members of the Dark Fraction,' I told her. 'Avery, Bulstrode, Burke, Carrow, Crabbe, Crouch, Dolohov, Flint, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, Roper, Rowle, Selwyn, Travers and Yaxley.'

'Let's see – Avery is a Death Eater, and he got caught during the Battle of Hogwarts. Even if they can't prove he committed a murder, he should at least go to Azkaban for life, so that Minister Shacklebolt can replace him by a proxy of his choice,' she mused. 'He doesn't have an heir, so after his death the seat can be claimed by the Ministry, as long as there isn't an heir lurking in the side-lines. Although I doubt that; the Averys are not very well liked, even in Pureblood circles, and always had problems to find wives for their sons.'

'One down!' I grinned and kissed her temple.

'You won't have any success with the Bulstrodes and the Burkes,' Daphne told me. 'They are sympathisers, sure, but they are too cunning to have joined the ranks of Voldemort. You won't find any dirt to throw at them, Harry. They're famous for always covering their tracks.'

I crossed the two names out. 'Not every raffle ticket is a winner!'

She laughed at that. 'Who's next?'

'The Carrows.'

Daphne shuddered. 'You'd think that they'll at least stay in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, with everything they did at Hogwarts. But I'm sure they'll also be found guilty of a murder or two, if you dig deep enough. What's the next name on your list?'

'Crabbe. That should be a no-brainer. Crabbe Senior was killed by Kingsley few weeks before the battle, and Crabbe Junior died during the battle in the Fiendfyre he conjured to kill Hermione, Ron and me,' I said.

Her head shot up, and I saw the terror in her eyes. 'Fiendfyre?' she almost shouted.

'Hush, love, it's over and we escaped without a scratch,' I tried to calm her. Without any success, of course.

'I'll let it go for now, but you'll tell me everything about that, soon, Harry!' she stated.

I knew an order when I got one, so I only replied, 'Yes, ma'am,' which earned me a poke in the side.

Ignoring my snigger, Daphne asked, 'Why is the Crouch seat on your list? Barty Crouch was a pompous arse, but never a Death Eater.'

'That's true for Barty Crouch Senior, but not for his son. Since Barty Junior murdered his father, and also played a major role in the resurrection of Voldemort, the Ministry should at least be able to take his seat for the rest of his life,' I explained.

Daphne frowned. 'How is that possible? Barty Junior was sentenced for life after the first war and died in Azkaban a couple of years later!'

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. 'That's the official story. However, he managed to escape from Azkaban around the time his death was reported. His dying mother took his place, and his father held him prisoner in his house until he managed to escape from there and to return to Voldemort. He was the one responsible for putting my name into the Goblet of Fire and for taking me directly to Voldemort after the third task.'

She gaped at me for a full minute, until I put my hand under her chin and gently closed her mouth shut. Daphne grabbed my wrist. 'Will you tell me about that one day?' she asked, her eyes dark and troubled.

'Yes, but we'll need a lot of time and a bottle of whisky for that. At the moment, I want to get this finished.' I gestured at the papers in front of me. 'If you don't mind waiting, I'll tell you tonight.'

Daphne nodded, still looking troubled. She looked at my list. 'Dolohov should also be a no-brainer, as you call it. He's one of the worst!'

'I agree. Though Flint will be tough. I'm not even sure their Head of House took the Dark Mark.'

'I'd be surprised if he did,' Daphne replied and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. 'The Flints are slippery bastards, very much like the Burkes and Bulstrodes. They'd never do something that will cost them their privileges.'

'What a pity! But we can try, can't we?' I said and put the Flint name to my list. 'At least Goyle should be easy. Both Goyles, father and son, took the Dark Mark and are on the run. Goyle Junior was part of the attack on Hermione, Ron and I when Crabbe tried to grill us.'

'Don't joke about that, Harry!' Daphne admonished and slapped me lightly on the arm. 'You could have died!'

'True, but I didn't,' I replied and blew her a kiss.

Daphne sighed and shook her head, mumbling something that sounded like "Gryffindork!"

Ignoring my obviously irritated girlfriend, I moved on with my list. 'Nott fought on our side in the Battle of Hogwarts, or so I've been told. Though his father definitely was a Death Eater and died during the Battle, I don't want to tell Kingsley to investigate him. It would look as if we didn't want to acknowledge that Nott Junior fought with us and might turn him away to the wrong people.'

'Good to know you can think like a Slytherin if you need to,' Daphne quipped. 'Your reasoning is sound. Leave Theodore to me. I think I can persuade him to join the Neutral Fraction. That'll secure his vote at least for some of the legislation Minister Shacklebolt wants to push through.'

'All right, Nott is all yours, love,' I grinned and gave her a peck on the lips. 'What about Parkinson?'

'I'm positive they are sympathisers, but like many others they were smart enough not to get too involved. I doubt you'll catch them, but you can try.'

'All right.' I scribbled another name on my list. 'Roper?'

'Blood supremacists, but never in league with Voldemort,' Daphne replied decidedly. 'They are a haughty bunch, but no Death Eaters.'

'But Rowle, Selwyn, Travers and Yaxley all were,' I remarked. 'Even if Kingsley can't take away their seats, he can at least appoint a proxy of his choice for their lifetime. That gives us...eight...ten possible votes for the time being. Eleven, if you manage to persuade Nott to join the Neutral Fraction. Not bad, I'd say!'

Daphne stood up and stepped behind me. 'Not bad? With these votes you've got the majority for Minister Shacklebolt in the bag, Harry!' She slid her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

I turned my head to meet her lips. 'True,' I said after a while. 'But let's not forget that most of these votes go to proxies for a limited period of time and have to be returned to their families after that. If we want to get the Neutral Fraction and the Light Fraction a secure majority for many years, we need to do more than that. We need to get the seats that are now held by proxy by the Ministry. We need to find the remaining heirs, if there are any.'

Daphne looked thoughtful. 'Maybe we should ask the Muggleborns we know and those with close Muggleborn relatives to take the hereditary test, though it's awfully expensive.'

'How much?' I asked.

'About ten thousand Galleons per test,' she replied.

I let out a low whistle. Ten thousand Galleons amounted to a million pounds – much more than most Muggleborns could lay their hands on. From my classmates, probably only Justin Finch-Fletchley could pay that much.

I turned around and pulled Daphne in my lap.

She let out a surprised shriek, but then made herself comfortable with a giggle and put her arms around my neck. 'What are you scheming, Harry?' she asked.

'I'm not scheming, I'm only weighing my options,' I corrected her, and slid my arms around her waist.

Daphne snorted at that. 'Sorry, love, but I'm a Slytherin and I can sense someone scheming from a mile away. What are you up to? Out with it!'

'How many Muggleborns do you know, Daphne?'

'Huh?' My question obviously puzzled her, but she replied, 'In our year there was no one in my house, Granger and Thomas in Gryffindor and Finch-Fletchley in Hufflepuff. That's all I know.'

'I know of Katie Bell and the Creevey brothers – Colin and Dennis - from Gryffindor. Also, my mother was Muggleborn, and your cousin Matthew is also of Muggleborn descent.'

She suddenly realised what I intended. 'If they took the hereditary test, we might find some of the missing heirs of the seats the Ministry has usurped. But none of them can afford the test.'

'But I can. Call it a donation to rebuild our society.' I replied.

 **HP – DG**

The "Princess Isabella" reached Colombo, Sri Lanka the next day. Once again we had to wake up at an unholy early hour to be ready to get on land as soon as the gangway was lowered. Buses were already waiting to drive us to Kandy, which was on our agenda today. The ride was more than three hours long and was very hot.

We reached Kandy at around eleven in the morning, and first had a tour of the Botanical Garden. Again, Daphne was in her element, pointing out every plant to me. The garden had an impressive collection of bamboo plants, and a large part of it looked as if it was still undisturbed jungle.

From the Botanical Garden it was only a short walk over a suspension bridge to New Ranweli Spice and Herbal Garden. It was really strange to see all the spices I'd used while cooking for the Dursleys grow in their natural habitat. I had even more fun to explain to Daphne how the different spices are used in the kitchen.

'Nutmeg is great in mashed potatoes,' I told her with a grin.

'I don't have an idea how to cook mashed potatoes, so I'll take your word for it,' Daphne replied.

'Well, love, that can be easily mended. Since you asked so nicely about it, I'll teach you how to cook when we're back home,' I grinned, turning the tables on her. After all the torture I'd been through with learning how to dance and all the long dinners at the Captain's table, I deserved some payback.

'I didn't ask you to show me how to cook!' Daphne protested.

'Love, I'm sure I just heard you _complain_ that you can't cook,' I replied serenely.

'I never complained!' she exclaimed. When she saw my grinning face, she burst out laughing. 'All right, I get it. I had that coming, didn't I? You'll get your payback, Harry, although you'll need strong nerves for that. I can't even prepare tea without burning the water!'

I surreptitiously cast an Anti-Listening-Charm around us. 'The more reason to learn how it's done, especially since you don't have house elves anymore.'

'You've got a point there,' she conceded.

After the tour I bought some nutmeg, cinnamon, pepper and vanilla at the small shop. The fragrance of the spices had always fascinated me when I had been cooking for the Dursleys, so I just couldn't resist taking with me some of the riches the island offered.

The morning ended with a short stroll through Kandy Market Hall. We'd already got a glimpse of Asian markets in Saigon and Kuala Lumpur, but the market hall in Kandy beat them both. Located on two floors, it was an onslaught on all senses. It offered an abundance of food and spices, clothing and jewellery, toys and souvenirs – most of them hand-crafted – and a million of other things people might need. The multitude of colours was so overwhelming it almost hurt the eyes. The fragrance of spices and tropical fruits mixed with the odour of too many people in a confined space, and the noise was deafening.

We had lunch at a hotel in Kandy. Everyone was glad for the break, and especially the cool drinks we were offered. Though Kandy was situated much higher in altitude than Colombo and the climate was supposed to be more pleasant, the temperature was still in the high twenties Celsius, not to mention the high humidity.

In the afternoon we visited the Royal Palace with the Temple of the Sacred Tooth, a relic of Buddha. Unfortunately, part of the temple was under reconstruction after its main entrance gate had been destroyed during a bomb blast only a few months ago, an uncomfortable reminder of the still ongoing civil war in parts of Sri Lanka.

We were allowed some free time at the palace before we were ushered back to the buses for the long ride to Colombo. Daphne and I put it to good use and took a short stroll along the Kandy Lake.

The ride back to Colombo was even hotter and longer than the ride in the morning. The route was packed with traffic and seemed to be blocked at every corner. The bus offered no air conditioning, but at least a refrigerator filled to the brim with cold drinks, and we made good use of it.

The stop-and-go traffic and the heat were tiring, and soon Daphne started to yawn. Her arm slid around my waist, and her head dropped on my shoulder. I put my arm around her to make her more comfortable, and the next minute she dozed off.

I saw how our travel guide from the cruise company constantly checked his wristwatch and frowned. I'd also checked my watch and estimated the distance we still had to cover. There was no way we were going to make it back in time for the scheduled departure of the "Princess Isabella". We were lucky that this was an excursion organised by the cruise company, and about two-thirds of the passengers had partaken in this, so that the ship was forced to wait for us.

Daphne woke up about twenty minutes later. 'Did I miss something?'

'Nothing of importance,' I replied. 'A couple of elephants slowly walking ahead of us and blocking the street, a lorry that was unloaded blocking the street, a...'

'Thanks, I get the picture!' she interrupted me. She stifled a yawn. 'Gosh, I'm knackered and hungry. And I want a shower!'

'Me too,' I agreed and dropped a kiss on her head. 'I don't think I have the energy to change and go to the restaurant for dinner when we're back. What do you think about dinner at the suite?'

'Sounds fine to me,' she replied and snuggled up to me. 'First a shower, than dinner in front of the telly with a nice DVD. How about "Back to the Future"?'

The suite came with an impressing collection of DVDs. Daphne and I had made good use of it during those first depressing days after the death of her mother, but when we reached warmer climates and Daphne got far enough over her loss to go out again, we'd spent less time in front of the telly of our suite in the evenings.

'Perfect!' I said and leaned my head against hers. It had become dark outside, and together we watched how the bus painfully slow threaded its way through the traffic to the harbour.

Finally, we reached the "Princess Isabella" more than half an hour behind schedule. When we climbed out of the bus, we could see the captain and his officers standing just outside of the bridge, ready to lift anchor as soon as the last passenger had entered the ship. Daphne and I were still on our way to our suite when we felt the ship already moving out of port.

We called out a good night to Alvirah and Willy, who also had a suite on deck ten, and strolled to our own suite at the end of the hallway hand in hand. We were alone in the hallway, and when we neared the door of our suite, I felt the hairs at the back of my head stand up.

I halted my steps at once.

'Is something wrong, Harry?' Daphne asked me, a frown on her face.

Though I had become slightly paranoid after the war and still lived under the protection of the Fidelius Charm at Grimmauld Place, I had refrained from using any of the Protection Charms we'd used during our time on the run on our suite. I was afraid how the workings of the ship would react to permanent wards. In fact, Daphne and I hardly used magic because of that, except the odd Sunscreen Charm. They were so low powered they couldn't do any harm.

But what I now sensed from the entrance door of our suite were some rather skilfully placed Alarm Charms and Muggle Repelling Charms.

'Yeah' I replied grimly. 'We've got uninvited visitors, love.'


	7. From Colombo to Southampton

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's Notes:** Once again a big thank you to my wonderful beta, Srikanth1808. His help improved this story immensely. Any mistakes that remain are mine, not his.

 **HP - DG**

 **From Colombo to Southampton**

Daphne paled. 'Death Eaters?' she whispered.

I gently pulled her back into the hallway – which was still empty – away from the door to our suite. All our co-travellers had been in a hurry to return to their cabins to have a shower and dinner, just like us. Unfortunately, it didn't look as if Daphne and I were going to have either of that any time soon. I slipped my wand out of my invisible holster and cast a silent Anti-Listening Charm around us.

'No, not Death Eaters,' I told her. 'The wards I detected have the feel of Hermione's magic to them. I walked through her wards for more times than I can remember when we were on the run, so I know how they feel.'

Her eyes went wide. 'Granger?' she exclaimed. 'What, by Merlin's unmentionables, does she want?' The colour of her cheeks deepened, and her eyes sparkled with anger.

'Well, I suppose she wants to save me from a gold digging dark Pureblood who got me under her spell by the generous use of Love Potions,' I deadpanned. 'Unfortunately, where Hermione is, Ron usually isn't far away, and I'm really not in the mood to deal with his immature tantrums tonight!'

In spite of her anger, Daphne had to laugh. 'How noble of her! What are we going to do?'

'First, we'll make sure if I was right,' I replied. I turned to the door and cast one of the nifty detection spells on our suite Hermione had taught me during our time on the run. _'Homenium Revelio!'_

The result was a surprise.

'Three people,' I told Daphne. 'They're on the lounge sofa.'

'Three?' She was taken aback. 'Who...?'

'Ginny, of course,' I interrupted her. 'My best friends and my ex unite for a rescue mission after they've found out I have a new girlfriend they don't approve of. Touching, isn't it?'

'However, she doesn't consider herself as your ex, and that worries me,' Daphne reminded me. 'What do we do about them? We can't stay in the hallway forever. I'm hungry and I want a shower.'

She sounded slightly miffed and I couldn't blame her for that. I was also hungry, and after the long and hot ride from Kandy to Colombo, my shirt was sticking to my back uncomfortably. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with a delusional ex, her hot tempered brother and a Hermione who was surely in one of her holier-than-thou-moods, if her last letter was an indication.

I scratched the back of my neck. 'It depends on what they want. If they want to talk, let's get it over with and then send them back. But if they think I'm under your undue influence and came to do something about that, this is going to be ugly.'

'Granger's the brain. The Weasel's used to follow her lead. She doesn't strike me as the violent type, so they'll probably want to talk first.'

'Probably. But don't get deceived by Hermione's bookish ways. She can be ruthless if need be. Also, don't underestimate Ginny. Her temper is always a force to reckon with, and I'm quite sure it's become more volatile than ever before in her current state of mind.'

Daphne worried her lower lip between her teeth. 'What if I walk into the living room, feign surprise, and try to talk to them, while you take the route through the bathroom and the bedroom to get into their backs? That way we'll find out what they want, but still have the surprise element on our side.'

I didn't like this plan, and rightfully protested. 'I hate to use you as bait, love!'

She gave me an annoyed look. 'I'm not a porcelain doll, Harry! I know that I'm probably in for a hex or two, but I can handle that. I'm counting on you to take on all three of them!'

'Don't get your hopes high, love. They've all fought before. I'm not sure that I'll have a chance if I have to go against all three of them,' I warned her.

Daphne looked as frustrated as I felt. 'Oh well, but it's our best bet, isn't it?'

'Unfortunately.' I put my arms around her and kissed her. 'Be careful, love!'

'You, too!' she replied and gave me a peck on the lips. Then she squared her shoulders and walked to the door of our suite.

I followed her, casting a Silencing Charm on myself.

Daphne took a deep breath, then she opened the door to our suite.

I was right on her heels, but immediately ducked into the bathroom to my right. I followed up the Silencing Charm with a Disillusionment Charm, while cursing myself for my short-sightedness. My Invisibility Cloak was safely packed away in my old school trunk at Grimmauld Place, where I had put it before I left for Southampton. I never would have thought that I would have need of it during a Muggle cruise.

From the living room came the indistinct murmur of voices. I thought I heard Ron's angry voice, and flitted to the door at the other end of the bathroom that led into the bedroom. To cover the noise of the opening door, I cast another Silencing Charm on it before I opened it.

My heart beat like a drum in my chest. I was worried about Daphne. Heaven knew what Ginny would do to her if she got into one of her tantrums! Ron sure as hell wouldn't hold his sister back. We would be lucky if he didn't join her on a hexing spree. Hermione alone simply didn't have the power to hold back two enraged Weasleys.

No one had, I thought grimly while I inched the door open. They tended to shout and hex first and ask questions later, when the damage was done and most likely irreparable. It had taken me several months of therapy to discover that character trait of my former surrogate family wasn't compatible with my own reserved character. However fascinated I was with their liveliness and the love they shared for each other, deep down their horrible temper made me uncomfortable and I tended to cringe and withdraw into myself whenever I had to witness it. Prime example of that had been my reaction to Ron and Hermione's fight during our third year.

The bedroom was empty, as I had expected. It wasn't big. There was just enough room for the king-sized bed, a bedside table on each side of it, and a small dressing table at one side of the room. I had never had use for it, but ever since Daphne had moved into my bedroom, it was covered with her make-up utensils, her brushes, her perfume flacon and a small chest where she kept her jewellery. The sight of her things made me smile. They were so – _Daphne_ , and gave the room a homely feeling it had lacked before.

The door directly to my right led into the walk-in wardrobe. To the left, a few yards ahead, another door led into the living room. Daphne and I usually kept that door wide open. Thankfully, neither the crew members that had cleaned the suite in the morning, nor our uninvited guests had closed it.

From my vantage point I couldn't see the lounge sofa, which was to my left, along the wall that the living room shared with the bathroom. But I had a clear view of the dining area and the desk. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw Daphne sitting in the chair in front of the desk.

She had drawn it to the side so that she could face our uninvited guests on the sofa. She sat very upright, and her face was a stony mask. 'I told you, Harry stayed behind to have a beer with one of his friends at the sports bar. I have no idea when he'll return,' she said. If she had seen the disturbance in the air caused by my entrance in the bedroom from the corner of her eyes, she didn't let on.

'You're lying, you bitch! What have you done with my fiancé?' That was Ginny's voice.

'I've done nothing to him,' Daphne answered. 'And he's not your fiancé!'

'Of course he is, that cheating bastard! You've shagged him! I saw your things in the bedroom! He's engaged to me, you whore!' She almost screeched.

Though Daphne's face remained calm, I could tell that she was quickly losing her patience with Ginny. I couldn't blame her. I had heard more than enough from my ex already. It seemed to me her hold on reality had lessened even more. Ginny and I had never talked about marriage. Although she had tried to bring it up frequently in our few conversations, I had evaded the topic to the best of my abilities.

'Ginny, please, that won't help us...' Hermione tried to interfere.

'Shut up, Granger! It's all your fault! I begged you to come back and go after him right after he disappeared, but no, madam had better things to do! You wanted to search for your parents! Look where that's got me! He's shagging that Death Eater whore over there!'

I had to suppress a grin in spite of my fury. Trust Hermione to try the way of logical reasoning first. As short as my time with Ginny had been, it had taught me that it was of no use to try to reason with her if she was in one of her tempers.

My wand firmly in my right hand, I crept into the living room and pressed myself flat against the wall behind the dining table. Motionlessly, I tried to melt into the background, hoping that my so-called friends wouldn't notice the disturbance in the air caused by my Disillusionment Charm. I was lucky; they were too distracted by Daphne to pay any heed to a possible attack from behind their backs.

Ron was sprawled over the chaise longue part of the lounge sofa that had served as Daphne's bed until Hiroshima. His ears were an alarming shade of red, a sure sign that he was about to explode any second. He had his wand trained on Daphne, but his lazy posture clearly betrayed that he underestimated her. I mentally shook my head. From their last encounter in Diagon Alley he should know that she was a force to reckon with, however poor her performance in Defence Against the Dark Arts might have been. Probably it was a blessing in disguise for him that the Aurors wouldn't accept him without his N.E.W.T.s. It was questionable if he would last long as an Auror with that attitude.

Beside him, Hermione looked alarmed, her gaze flitting from Ron to her left to Ginny to her right, and she wrung her hands.

Ginny's face was contorted in a grotesque mask of hate. Her eyes were mere slits in her red face and she bared her teeth at Daphne. She sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward as if ready to pounce like a predator on the hunt, her wand trained on Daphne.

My girlfriend lived up to her Pureblood upbringing. Her unmoved posture showed no sign of fear, and the look she gave my three friends reminded me of my Aunt Petunia when she found a speck of dirt on her immaculate floors.

Unfortunately, that enraged Ginny beyond reason. Her ugly expression suddenly morphed into something I had only seen in horror films until now. 'You stole my fiancé! I'm going to kill you for that!' she shouted. Her fury was so intense that the wand in her hand trembled.

'AVEDA KEDAVRA!'

It happened as if in slow motion, but yet so fast that I had no chance to interfere. Unable to do anything I had to watch the Killing Curse hiss through the air towards the love of my life.

Daphne's body thudded to the floor.

I closed my eyes, wanting to die right beside her. But my damned heart refused to stop beating.

'You hexed my sister!' Ron roared.

My heart missed a beat, then started thumping like a drum. I opened my eyes wide, just in time to see Ron jump up from the sofa. He was caught in his midriff by the Disarming Charm Daphne silently sent at him from her crouching position on the floor. The back of his head hit the wall he was flung against with a nasty thunk, before he slumped onto the sofa. His eyes stared vacantly into space.

I looked for Ginny. She lay in front of the sofa, her body rigid and her arms pressed along her body. Only her eyes moved rapidly, exuding a nauseating hate.

'Oh Ginny, what have you done?' Hermione cried, her face as pale as a sheet. She looked as if she was going to faint any second.

I didn't care. My eyes were on Daphne, who had just scrambled to her feet. Cancelling my Disillusionment Charm, I rushed to my girlfriend and almost crushed her in my arms. Trembling all over, I buried my face in her hair, not ashamed of my tears.

Daphne flung her arms around me and hugged me as if she would never let me go. She was shaking in my arms, too, and her tears spilled on my shirt.

I don't know how long we stood like that, drawing comfort from each other.

'Merlin, Daphne, I thought she got you!' I whispered into her hair.

Daphne raised her head from my shoulder and looked at me. 'No chance. She trembled so hard that her aim was way off. The moment I saw the direction her curse would take, I let myself drop to the floor and cast a Body-Bind Curse on her.' She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me towards her in a kiss that did a lot to reassure me. 'I love you, Harry!' she said when she pulled away from me, her eyes beaming like two sapphire stars with that special look that was only meant for me.

'I love you, too, Daphne! Merlin, when I saw that curse hurtling to you...' My voice broke and I couldn't go on. Once again, I pulled her towards me in a bone breaking hug until she complained.

'You hurt me, love!'

'Sorry, Daphne!' I loosened my grip immediately, though I still kept one arm around her waist, afraid she would vanish if I let go of her.

She gave me a smile full of understanding and caressed my cheek with her hand.

Of course, my obnoxious so-called best friend had to butt in.

Ron groaned dramatically as he came to his – admittedly little – senses and sat up. He touched the back of his head with his hand. 'Ouch! About time you show up, Potter! Your slut injured me!'

I stiffened and clenched my fists. 'Weasley, if you insult my girlfriend one more time, you're going to regret it!'

'She injured me!'

'She disarmed you because you were going to hex her!' I replied, inwardly counting to ten to keep my temper in check.

'She deserved it; she hexed my sister!' Ron replied, indignantly.

'Who just cast one of the Unforgivables on her!' I retorted.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. 'Who cares? She's just a snake!'

Something inside me snapped. The blood rushed in my ears, and I didn't hear the roar that escaped my mouth as I lunged at the bloody git and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. My right fist connected with his jaw with a sickening, yet satisfying noise. I had caught him by surprise, and he didn't have a chance to defend himself when my second blow knocked him down.

'Harry!' Hermione screamed into my ear. She grabbed my left arm with both hands and tried to drag me away from her lover.

I didn't budge and waited with raised fists of a sign of resistance from Ron, but he was knocked out cold. Knowing that his Weasley temper would have him shouting for revenge as soon as he had finished considering the back of his eyelids, I let my wand slid out of the holster and cast _'Incarcerous!'_ I was still angry beyond anything, and instead of the thick ropes I had expected, heavy chains wrapped themselves around Ron's ankles and his upper body, pressing his arms to his sides.

'Harry, is that really necessary?' Hermione demanded.

I whirled around, still breathing hard. 'You heard what he said, Hermione. Do you think I'd let him callously shrug off the fact that his sister just tried to murder my girlfriend because of her petty jealousy? Get real, Hermione!'

She harrumphed, but I ignored her and went over to Ginny. Never before had I raised my hand against a woman who wasn't a Death Eater or hadn't tried to hex me first. I was determined to make an exception for Ginny today.

When I loomed over her, the expression full of hate vanished from her face, and her eyes smiled at me with the sweetness I remembered from these enchanted three weeks after the Quidditch match in my sixth year. The abrupt change was disturbing.

I yanked her to her feet. The sudden movement made her long hair swing over her shoulder and into my face. My nose caught the fragrance of the flowery perfume she loved to wear, the scent that I would always link to Ginny and that spring two years ago. My desire to beat the living daylight out of her abated. A wonderful feeling came over me, as if I was floating on cloud nine. I raised my wand and cancelled Daphne's Body-Bind Curse.

Ginny's voice was the sweetest thing I had heard in a long time.

'Harry! I've missed you so much, sweetheart!'

How could I ever leave her? How could I think I loved another woman? I made a step towards her to take her in my arms.

An expression of uneasiness appeared on her face, and she retreated from me as far as she could.

'Ginny!' I whined. 'I've missed you so much!'

'I've missed you too, Harry!' she assured me, but her eyes avoided mine, and she tried to retreat even further. She then turned her head to the side and gave Daphne a look of triumph.

I also looked at my current girlfriend. I had to end it right now; anything else wouldn't be fair, neither to Ginny, nor to Daphne. 'Daphne, I'm sorry...' I began.

Her smile was grim. 'I understand completely, Harry!' she replied and raised her wand at me.

Ginny screamed and flung herself at Daphne.

The next instant the sounds in the room seemed to be muffled and distorted. I raised my hand to touch my ear and found I had a Bubblehead Charm around my head. The flowery scent of Ginny's perfume was gone, and I was breathing in clean air. That same second, the floating feeling vanished.

'Do something, Harry!' Hermione shouted and yanked my arm.

I shook my head to clear my mind and looked around.

Daphne and Ginny were rolling on the floor; Ginny was trying to get her hands around Daphne's throat, while Daphne obviously fought for her life, using nails and teeth and any advantage she could get. Daphne was taller and physically in better shape than Ginny, who hated bodily workout, but Ginny fought with the strength of madness, and her fingers eventually closed around Daphne's throat.

I didn't hesitate. I pulled my wand and threw a Stunner at Ginny.

A thick, red beam of light hurtled towards her and caught her in the back. Her back arched at an impossible angle, and she collapsed over Daphne.

I rushed towards the two girls on the floor and pulled Ginny off my girlfriend, admittedly not very gently. Then I knelt down beside Daphne and helped her sit up. 'Are you all right, love?' I asked, my arm supporting her.

'Just peachy,' she croaked with a grimace and grabbed with her hand at her throat. 'That was scary!' She leaned her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure. After a few moments she opened her eyes again and looked at me. 'I think I'm ready to get up.'

I helped her to her feet and led her to the dining table.

Hermione looked up from where she knelt beside Ginny, her wand in her hand. 'Harry, what did you do to her? The counter spell won't work on her!' Her voice sounded panicked.

Ginny was the last of my concerns at the moment, but I also knew that Hermione wouldn't stop nagging me, so I asked back, 'Have you checked her vital signs?'

'Yes, they're all right,' Hermione answered, pointing her wand at Ginny again and casting a spell soundlessly.

'Then I wouldn't worry at the moment,' I replied while I helped Daphne to sit down.

She gave me a thankful smile in return.

Hermione was not happy with me. She harrumphed and glared at me.

I walked over to the bar and fetched a glass and a bottle of water for Daphne. 'To be honest, Hermione, the longer she's out of action, the better for all of us. She'll come around eventually.' I opened the bottle and poured some water into the glass that I then handed to Daphne.

Hermione looked at me as if I had grown a second head. 'Who are you? I don't recognise you anymore, Harry! There was a time when we were so close to you.' She made a motion with her hand that included Ron, Ginny and herself. 'That seems to have changed since _she_ came into your life. What did she do to you that you don't know your real friends anymore? And cancel that ludicrous Bubblehead Charm! You look like a fool!'

'Better looking like a fool than being under the influence of the Love Potion the Weaslette has in her hair,' Daphne interjected and took a sip of her water.

Hermione whirled around to face her. 'Shut up, you bitch! You have no idea what you're talking about!'

Daphne laughed at that. 'Haven't I? You were there, Granger! You saw what happened when Harry got the Weaslette's hair in his face!'

'Obviously that was the trigger Harry needed to get out of the Love Potion induced bewitchment you put him under!' Hermione retorted. She got up to her feet and trained her wand on Daphne. 'Let him go. Right now!'

That was enough.

' _Expelliarmus!'_

Hermione's wand sailed towards me in a graceful arch. I stashed it in the back pocket of my trousers, and then Summoned Ron and Ginny's wands and also put them away.

'Harry! How could you –' Hermione gasped.

'For once in your life, shut up, Hermione!' I said, tiredly. I had done what was necessary as soon as I realised that Ginny was trying to kill Daphne a second time tonight, and then made sure that Daphne was all right. The implications of what had happened in our suite tonight were just beginning to catch up with me. My hands trembled and my head spun. I wasn't in the mood to deal with one of Hermione's long winded rants.

That silenced her, though she gave me a look that reminded me of a hurt animal.

'Sit down on the sofa!' I told her.

She obeyed without an objection. That had to be a first in all the time I'd known her.

I directed my wand at Ginny and silently cast the Binding Charm. Again, instead of thick ropes, chains wrapped themselves around her body, a sure sign that I was still as angry as never before in my life. I levitated her onto the sofa, beside Hermione. Then I took a chair from the dining table and sat down next to Daphne.

She reached out and took my hand.

Immediately, I felt calmer. I cleared my throat. 'Why did you break into our suite, Hermione?'

Hermione actually had the decency to look ashamed. 'It was Ginny's idea. She said we needed to do something to save you from _her_ clutches.' She jerked her chin at Daphne.

Her callousness irked me, but I decided to let it go for the time being. I needed answers, and I wouldn't get them if I started to squabble with Hermione about her behaviour towards my girlfriend.

'Ron and Mrs Weasley agreed. Mrs Weasley said she probably kept you under the Imperius Curse or a Love Potion or both. She said we had to get you back to the Burrow so that she could work on an antidote for whichever Love Potion _she_ gave you.'

I shook my head at that. 'Hermione, you know that the Imperius Curse doesn't work on me. I shook off an Imperius Curse cast by Voldemort himself.'

She bit her lower lip. 'I know! That's why I thought it more likely you were under a Love Potion. After all, Greengrass' parents were in league with Voldemort, so I thought that this was a conspiracy to get you and take vengeance on you.'

'Hermione, I've been travelling with Daphne for three months now, yet I haven't been abducted. Didn't that make you think?' I asked, my exasperation at her growing. For the brightest witch of her age, Hermione could be exceptionally blind sometimes.

'How am I supposed to know how the brain of a Death Eater works?' she defended herself, but it sounded lame. 'From the article in the _Prophet_ we knew the name of the ship you took for your travels. I found out the itinerary of your cruise and knew you were going to be in Colombo today. Ron bought two International Portkeys to Colombo and back. Our plan was to get into your cabin, stun you and take you back with us to the Burrow. It never occurred to us you wouldn't be there when we arrived.'

Daphne and I shared a grim smile. It appeared that my "friends" had made the same mistake as I had done when I had gone after Daphne: they didn't take the time difference into account. Also, it had probably been our luck that we had to leave for our excursion that early in the morning.

'It was quite the surprise when we arrived here and saw this.' She made a motion with her hand that included all of our suite. 'I mean, I know that the "Princess Isabella" is a luxury cruise ship. I've travelled with my parents before and I had an idea of what to expect. Ron and Ginny, however, had no idea. Ron got furious.'

That was no surprise. Ron had always been jealous of my money.

'Ginny at first seemed to be pleasantly surprised. She walked around to have a closer look. But when she came into the bedroom, she got mad.' Hermione turned red.

She didn't have to tell me. 'Ginny saw that Daphne and I share a bedroom and got into one of her infamous tempers,' I concluded.

Hermione nodded, still rather red in the face. 'It was scary! I'm used to her temper, but I've never seen her like that before. She kept saying over and over again that you've shagged the bitch and that you're both going to pay for that. Then she broke out in tears. She couldn't understand why you slept with her and walked away, and are now living together with a Death Eater whore. Ron and I had a hard time to calm her down. You can imagine how furious Ron got when he saw how distressed Ginny was.'

Again, Daphne and I shared a look. Her face was calm, but I could see in her eyes that she was quickly losing her patience with my three so-called friends. 'Did it never occur to you to ask for Harry's side of the story, Granger?'

Hermione gave her a defiant look. 'That wouldn't have been of much use, as he was under your influence!' she spat.

'For Merlin's sake, stop it, Hermione!' I exploded.

She jumped and shifted her gaze to me.

I stood up and paced the room, unable to sit still and listen to her misguided ideas any longer. I needed to make her see reason, but how? George hadn't exaggerated; Hermione seemed to be firmly under the Weasley influence at the moment, at the cost of her brilliant ability of logical thinking. On the other hand, I was too agitated to deal with her tonight. Ginny had tried to kill Daphne, not once, but twice. I knew I was still in shock. Any attempt to talk reason into Hermione would most likely lead to a shouting match on my part if she kept being so obnoxious.

'Where is your return Portkey?' I asked.

Hermione's brows rose at my change of topic, but she answered, 'It's in my pocket, why?'

'Get it out. I want you three to leave. Now!' I told her.

'But, Harry –' she objected.

I shook my head. 'Now, Hermione! I see no use in talking to you any longer, since you're obviously not willing to listen to anything I say. Maybe you'll use that head of yours to think about what happened here today, but I won't hold my breath for it. If you come to the conclusion that you're willing to listen to me, a letter from you will reach me anytime. Until then, we'll go separate ways.'

Her lips quivered. 'So you're going to end our friendship, Harry?'

'I'm not ending our friendship, but I'm definitely putting it on hold. It's your decision to make the next step. Of course, I won't wait indefinitely for that,' I replied.

A tear rolled down her cheek. 'I see. What about Ginny and Ron?'

'Sorry, but that ship has sailed. Today, Ginny twice tried to kill my girlfriend. Ron callously condoned his sister's actions. That's not something I can forgive easily, Hermione.'

She looked as if she was going to object, but thought the better of it when I glared at her. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled a crushed can out of it and placed it on the coffee table. 'I need your help, Harry. You'll have to free at least one of their arms so that they can hold on to the can.'

I complied and freed Ginny and Ron's left arm from the heavy chains. With a Gluing Charm I then fixed their index fingers to the can. 'I don't want them to wake up here, but I also don't want them to get lost in the void,' I explained to Hermione. However, I had to admit that the latter option was tempting.

Hermione only nodded to that. 'My wand?' she asked and raised her chin challengingly.

With an inward sigh, I handed her the wand. It was obvious that she was still being unreasonable. 'I'll send Ginny and Ron's wands by owl,' I told her.

She didn't look happy, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She pointed her wand at the Portkey and looked at me a last time. 'Good bye, Harry! I hope you'll never regret your decision!'

'Don't worry about that. I won't!' I replied.

Her eyes widened when she heard the firm conviction in my voice. She put her finger on the can and activated the Portkey. It turned blue, and in the next moment my three former friends were gone.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding and turned to Daphne.

She was still seated at the table. Angry red bruises had formed around her throat, where Ginny's fingers had tried to press the life out of her.

I shuddered at the thought of what could have happened, had I awoken out of my Love Potion induced befuddlement a minute later. The mere thought caused me to break out in cold sweat.

An arm slid around my waist. I hadn't noticed Daphne walking to me. She raised her wand and cancelled the Bubblehead Charm, then cupped her hand around my cheek. The look she gave me made my heart beat a drumroll.

'You sent them away. They've been your friends since your first year; you've fought against Voldemort together. But you chose me over your best friends!' Her voice was full of amazement.

I caught her hand and pressed a kiss in her palm. 'They aren't my true friends. If they were true friends, they'd try to understand my point of view instead of insisting on their preconceived notions. They'd be happy for me that I've found the one for me, instead of trying to break us apart.' I took her in my arms. 'I love you, Daphne, and I want to spend my life with you. I can't imagine a world without you. Watching how Ginny tried to kill you twice tonight was the most horrible thing that ever happened to me.'

The gaze she gave me in return took my breath away. There it was again: the certainty that she would stand by my side, love me and support me, no matter what life would throw at us.

I have no idea how I knew it, but my inner voice told me this was the moment I had been waiting for since Hong Kong. My hands trembled when I reached into the pocket of my trousers and pulled out the small box I had been carrying with me each moment since I had left the jeweller's shop in Hong Kong. I flipped it open with the nail of my thumb and held it out to her. 'Will you marry me, Daphne? Because we both want it and not because of some silly Pureblood traditions or the expectations of the public?'

'Yes!' she exclaimed and flung her arms around my neck.

The box slipped out of my hand. I vaguely registered the ring hitting the floor with a soft tinkle. The outside world ceased to exist. All that mattered was the young woman in my arms. She said _yes!_ Until today, the memory of that moment helps me to produce a Patronus of a magnitude hitherto unknown to the magical world.

Daphne laughed and cried when we finally broke off the kiss, and her eyes beamed with happiness.

I sank down onto the chair she had just vacated and pulled her onto my lap. I have no idea how long it took until we finally remembered the ring. Of course, it had fallen out of the box and had lost itself somewhere in the lush carpet. We both searched for it on all fours for at least five minutes until Daphne found it under the dining table.

I slipped it on her finger.

Daphne held out her hand in front of her and took a good look at the ring for the first time. Then, she smiled at me. 'It's perfect, love!'

Of course, there was only one answer to that.

We never got down to ordering dinner and watching a DVD that night, as we had planned on the ride from Kandy back to Colombo.

 **HP – DG**

We woke up the next morning when the sun was already high in the sky.

Beside me, Daphne yawned, then stretched with a content sigh. 'Good morning, sleepyhead!' my fiancé purred at me.

'You're one to talk,' I snorted and pecked her on her pert nose.

My eyes came to rest on her throat. It looked horrible. The colour of her bruises was starting to change from red into a bluish purple. A number of other bruises, that had been invisible the previous night, had appeared on her skin.

I carefully traced the outline of the bruised area with my fingertips. Her skin felt swollen. She grimaced with pain, and I hurriedly pulled my finger away. 'Does it hurt that bad?' I asked.

Daphne shrugged in response. 'I'll live,' she replied. Then she gave me an impish grin. 'I'm famished. We burned off a lot of calories last night.' She cast the duvet aside and got up. 'Be a dear and order breakfast, Harry, while I take a shower,' she called over her shoulder as she sauntered into the bathroom with a provocative swing of her hips.

I appreciatively watched her retreating form in her birthday suit. Breakfast was overrated, after all, I decided, and followed her.

 **HP - DG**

We eventually managed to have breakfast. About an hour later we sat outside on the veranda and enjoyed a very late morning meal. Daphne's bruises now were invisible under the Glamour Charms she had placed around her throat and her neck, but she had decided to dress in a loose tunic with a band collar, just in case, to hide the bruises from curious eyes. Her engagement ring glinted in the sunlight every time she moved her hand, but her eyes were even brighter every time she looked at me.

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

As always, it was Daphne who brought me back to earth, gently, but decidedly, after the room service had cleared the table.

She climbed onto the sun island and motioned me to join her. Of course she didn't have to tell me twice, but from the way she looked at me, I knew that she had something on her mind. 'We've got to talk about yesterday, love,' she said quietly.

My happy mood vanished as if the sun had been darkened by a cloud. 'There isn't much to talk about. Ginny cast an Unforgivable on you. You know as well as I do what the punishment for that is.' I shuddered. Even though Kingsley had abolished the Dementors immediately after the war, Azkaban still was a desolate place. My shoulders slumped.

Daphne's eyes were full of sympathy when she took my hand. 'It doesn't have to come to that, Harry. As long as I don't press charges, nobody will know what happened and she won't be tried by the Wizengamot.'

'Why wouldn't you want to press charges, Daphne? We're talking about the Killing Curse cast at you!' I replied. 'You can't let her get away with that simply like _that_.' I snapped my fingers.

'We're also talking about a young woman who went through an unimaginable trauma at the age of eleven and received no help afterwards,' Daphne contradicted. 'And Merlin knows what happened to her at Hogwarts last year! I've heard rumours…' She broke off and bit her lower lip.

That got my attention. 'What rumours?'

'Well, I've told you about the way the Carrows kept harassing me, always coming into my dorm when I changed,' she began.

I nodded, remembering the day on our way from San Francisco to Sydney when she had told me about the conditions at Hogwarts during the war for the first time. She had dropped little snippets now and then during the following weeks. Not enough to get the whole picture, but enough for me to know that the reign of the Carrows must have been hell on earth for everyone who was not a Death Eater, which also included the few Slytherins who had tried to stay away from Voldemort.

'As rumour has it, they were even more horrible to everyone who dared to openly oppose their reign openly,' she continued. 'Ginny was at the top of their list, together with Longbottom and Finnegan. Even though she claimed that you'd broken up with her at the end of our sixth year, no one believed her. I lost count of the numerous times the Carrows gave her detention. It was always only the Carrows and her in these detentions. However, after my experiences with the Carrows, I fear the worst.'

Her words hit me like a Bludger to the stomach. 'You mean, they raped her?' I finally asked, dreading her answer.

Daphne shook her head. 'I doubt they went that far. After all, Ginny's a Pureblood, and raping a Pureblood girl meant crossing a line that would bring the wrath of all Pureblood families on their heads. No, it wasn't rape…but there are many more ways to humiliate a woman than to rape her, love.'

I felt sick. 'It's my fault,' I whispered. 'I never should've started dating her!' That earned me a sharp slap on the shoulder.

'Stop it at once, Harry! You're not responsible for the sick sexual aberrations of the Carrows!' Daphne chided. 'Ginny would've been a target, anyway. She's a Weasley, and therefore she was considered a Bloodtraitor. That was already enough to guarantee her the special attentions of the Carrows!'

In my mind I knew she was right. Eleven years of undisturbed conditioning by my loving relatives, however, had taught me that everything that happened somehow had to be my fault. I had worked with Mr Freid to overcome that pattern of thought, but it was quite hard.

I gave Daphne a weak smile. 'Thanks for the reminder. I needed that.'

'You're welcome,' she smiled and squeezed my hand. Then, however, her face became grim. 'We also should keep in mind the possibility that Ginny's been manipulated. She did make an effort to move on during your fourth and fifth year. I wonder why she suddenly decided otherwise.'

The implication of her train of thought didn't escape me. 'You mean that her own mother might have manipulated her?'

'It's the only logical conclusion, isn't it? If Granger didn't brew the Love Potion she had in her hair, it must have been someone else close to Ginny. Mrs Weasley has shown a penchant for Love Potions more than once. You overheard her talking about a Love Potion she once gave to her husband. George told us that she was looking up Love Potions in the Family Grimoire and even warned you that she was up to something.'

'Point taken,' I conceded. 'I just can't see why.'

Daphne shook her head at me. 'Honestly, Harry, sometimes you go overboard with your modesty. Firstly, you're bloody rich. Secondly, you're extremely magically powerful. Thirdly, you're the Chosen One and Vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Fourthly, you're the Head of four Ancient Houses, though Mrs Weasley probably knows of only two of them. Fifthly, you're supposed to be the next Albus Dumbledore, and are going to wield a lot of power in our world one day.'

'Stop it, Daphne!' I protested. 'Is that the way you see me?'

'No, that's the way a potential Pureblood mother-in-law sees you,' she replied with a smile. 'To me, you're the most tender and caring boyfriend – and now fiancé – a girl can wish for. It doesn't hurt, either, that you're handsome and an ardent lover.'

I blushed, hard. 'You're exaggerating, love!'

She rolled her eyes at me, but didn't continue her embarrassing enumeration. Instead, she took her lower lip between her teeth, a thoughtful look in her eyes. 'I might also be a reason why she's trying to get you and her daughter together by all means,' she finally said.

'What do you mean?' I asked.

'My grandfather was in negotiations with the Head of House Prewett about a marriage contract between my father and Molly Prewett. He broke them off when my father met my mother,' she explained.

Now I remembered and nodded. 'You mentioned that the day we met. You think it's possible that Mrs Weasley bears a grudge because your father married your mother instead of her and projects that on her daughter? Because I broke up with Ginny and am now with you?'

'Something like that,' Daphne nodded.

I frowned, considering her words. 'Sounds farfetched to me, but Merlin knows what the war did to her. Fred's death has changed her: that was already evident in the few weeks I spent at the Burrow after the Battle and before I broke off with Ginny. Judging by what George told us, she's still messed up.'

Daphne linked her fingers with mine. 'You saw how Ginny acted yesterday. Her letters already indicated that she'd lost the grip on reality, and yesterday's events proved that. I don't want to press charges against a girl who's most likely not responsible for her deeds.'

'That's very honourable of you, Daphne, but there's such a thing as diminished responsibility,' I replied.

She shook her head. 'Not in the magical world, love.'

I gasped. 'What?! That's barbaric!'

'More likely medieval, I'd say,' Daphne replied. 'There have been attempts to change the law and to introduce the concept of diminished responsibility in the past, but they've always failed. The main argument against it was that it's a Muggle concept and that the Wizarding law, which dates from the times before the Wizengamot was founded, by the way, is more than adequate to deal with anything that happens.'

That reasoning didn't surprise me at all. It was just another reminder that the Wizarding world thought itself superior to the Muggles.

'All right, have it your way,' I finally agreed. 'But we'll have to document the evidence. I'm not at all convinced we've seen the last of this. We have to cover our backs, just in case.'

'Spoken like a true Slytherin,' my fiancé replied appreciatively. 'What do you have in mind?'

'We need to take pictures of your throat. And we should store copies of our memories of yesterday's events in unbreakable phials, so that they can be viewed in a Pensieve, if need be.'

Daphne nodded to that. 'What else?'

'Too bad I didn't think of cutting off some of Ginny's hair before I sent her away yesterday.' I was angry at myself for my oversight.

That elicited a grin from her. 'Then you'll be happy to know that I put a strand of her hair in a paper bag that's now on your desk. You can send it to the Department of Mysteries for a private analysis. It's costly, but you need answers, and if you want to keep things under wraps, you can't send it to the Aurors.'

I rose my eyebrows. 'How did you come by a strand of Ginny's hair?'

'I'm a Slytherin, love, and Slytherins fight dirty. I probably yanked it out when we fought yesterday, and found it on the carpet this morning,' Daphne replied with an angelic face.

'Have I told you lately that I love you?' I asked and put my arm around her shoulder.

'Not for the last thirty minutes,' my fiancé replied and kissed me.

 **HP – DG**

We documented the evidence and then went on with our usual routine. To my relief – and secret amazement – there was no letter from Ginny in the mail that day.

Daphne read my face correctly. 'She didn't have time for that yesterday, Harry. She spent the day waiting for you.'

She had a point there. Luckily, there wasn't a letter from Cousin Melissa, either. I began to feel tentatively optimistic that she had given up her crusade. My hopes rose even more when there wasn't a sign from her in the mail over the following two days.

Daphne didn't share my optimism. 'She's hatching a plan, I bet. She's a Slytherin, after all. Besides that, after I refused to return to England, she told me she'd have to take action.'

I cast an approving glance at my fiancé on the deckchair beside me. She was working on her seamless tan in the absolute privacy of the part of the veranda at the side of the ship. 'What do you think she'll do?' I asked.

'If I were in her place, I'd approach one of the minor Pureblood families with a younger son and suggest a marriage contract. After all, even though I'm damaged goods, I'm still a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, an heiress and the Head of an Ancient House with a seat on the Wizengamot. That should be incentive enough to overlook the scandal I've caused.' She gave me a saucy grin.

'Stop talking about yourself like that, love, or I'll have to cast another _"Aguamenti Gelido"_ at you,' I warned her with a frown on my face.

'As you wish, my intended,' Daphne replied with a chuckle and a mock servitude that didn't deceive me for a second.

I demonstratively let my wand slip out of the invisible holder, while I smiled at her innocently.

'You're no fun,' she complained and sat up, her arms slung around her knees. 'What worries me more is that we haven't heard anything from Ginny yet. After everything that happened, I can't believe that she would suddenly stop stalking you.'

My humorous mood suddenly deserted me. 'Don't jinx it, love.'

 **HP – DG**

The _Princess Isabella_ reached Victoria, the capital city of the Seychelles. Daphne and I had hired a private car with a driver through the travel agency on board. We wanted to visit the world famous beaches.

'Why did I even care to ask?' Alvirah had chuckled when we spoke to her about our plans for the day on the Seychelles.

Victoria was a small town, and we soon left it behind us. We had to cross the mountains that surrounded Victoria to get to the beaches. Soon, our driver entered a rather narrow street that raised itself into the mountains in adventurous hairpin turns that made Daphne gasp and grasp for my arm more than once. The view of Victoria and the adjoining islands, however, was amazing.

Our driver stopped at a tea plantation below the summit. We'd been told by the travel agency to wear sturdy shoes, and when our driver now led us to a short, but extremely steep hiking trail that ended at a lookout point, we understood why. The hike wasn't long, but sweaty. It led us through a thick tropical forest. Our driver knew a lot about the fauna and flora of his country, and he pointed out the most interesting species to us.

The view from the lookout point was awe-inspiring. Below us was the nice little town of Victoria, but we could see as far as to the islands of Praslin and La Digue, and got the impressions of many more islands scattered in the vast Indian Ocean. Our driver promptly improved our general knowledge by telling us that the Republic of Seychelles consisted of 115 islands.

We returned to the car and continued on our way to the beaches. Crossing the summit, the street led down on the other side of the mountains through the tropical forest in another set of adventurous turns. Every now and then we would have a glimpse of the shore deep below us and the ocean behind it.

Finally, we reached the base of the mountains, and turned into another street that led along the coast. At every turn, another white beach, dotted with picturesque granite boulders, would turn up. Each beach was more beautiful than the one before, but our driver assured us he would take us to the most beautiful of all of them.

Finally, he turned into a rather bumpy road. The thick tropical forest closed around us. The beach seemed miles away, but suddenly the forest opened to a wide stretch of blinding white sand. Ahead of us, the ocean shimmered in a breath-taking array of more greens and blues than I would have thought possible to exist on this planet. Huge red granite boulders dotted the beach, offering pleasant shade.

Daphne and I spread our towels in the sand in the shade of one of the boulders, and then chased each other into the water. The water was crystal clear and pleasantly warm. We swam and dived until we got tired, and then relaxed on the beach. After another swim we decided that it was time for lunch and we packed our things. Hand in hand we walked along the waterline to the restaurant at the other end of the beach. It was a landmark of the island and famous for its fish menu, our driver had told us. We enjoyed a delicate lunch on the shady terrace, with a breath-taking view of the ocean, and surrounded by the huge tortoises that were kept in an enclosure at the side of the restaurant.

The _Princess Isabella_ left Victoria at sunset. Daphne and I leaned against the railing of the veranda, watching the fiery spectacle.

Daphne gave the island a last, wistful look. 'I'd love to return for a longer stay one day.'

I put my arm around her and kissed her temple. 'I think that can be arranged, love.'

 **HP – DG**

My secret hopes that Melissa and Ginny would leave us alone were crushed the next morning, when I extracted a big, bulky envelope from Melissa, and even two letters from Ginny, from the Banishing Box.

'I told you so,' Daphne sighed as I handed her the letter from her cousin. She tore the envelope open. A thick stack of papers fell into her hands. 'I knew she was going to set up a marriage contract for me!' she exclaimed. She slammed the contract on the dining table in a huff and perused the first page. Her face turned crimson.

'What's the matter, love?' I asked, alarmed. Daphne reserved her temper for events that really got to her. I'd been on the receiving end of her outbursts twice – admittedly I had deserved it each time – and I knew the warning signs quite well by now.

She shoved the contract to me without a word. When I read the name of the male party, I didn't know whether to be angry on her behalf or amused. Summoning all my Slytherin traits, I managed to keep a bland face. 'Gregory Goyle? Really, love, I didn't know you were that desperate.'

For my cheek, I received the expected slap on my arm. However, it wasn't hard and was accompanied by a soft chuckle, both telling me she also had discovered the funny side of Melissa's attempt.

She pulled the contract towards her and gave it a quick scan. 'What a pleasant agreement! You'll be happy to know that he demands nothing of me except most of my money. Apparently, he needs it to support himself while he's on the run.' She pulled her wand out and directed it at the offending contract. 'There's only one answer to that!' The next second, the contract burst into flames.

I clapped my hands while Daphne vanished the ashes with a lazy flick of her wand.

'I know the Goblins filter out Howlers sent to your Banishing Box. But what happens if I want to send a Howler through the Box? I think Cousin Melissa needs one,' she asked me.

'That shouldn't be a problem, but don't you think it will be better to tell her of our engagement? After all, that's what she and Matthew wanted all along,' I asked.

'You have a point, but I want to see how far she will go with this,' Daphne replied. She sat down at the table and pulled a sheet of her personalised parchment towards her with a feral grin.

I almost pitied Melissa – _"almost"_ being the key word.

While Daphne was busy composing a Howler for her meddling cousin, I opened Ginny's letters and gave them a quick scan. Though the letters were as embarrassing as ever, there was a change I couldn't point my fingers at when I read them for the first time. I had to read them once again until I realised that their undertone had become downright creepy. However, I wasn't sure if I was right, so I waited until Daphne had finished her Howler to Melissa, and then asked her to read the letters and tell me if I was wrong.

Her face got considerably paler while she read them. 'You're right,' she said as she handed the letters back to me. Her eyes were concerned as she looked at me. 'Promise me that you'll be careful, love!'

'Always,' I replied and kissed her.

 **HP – DG**

Daphne's Howler must have impressed Melissa: there wasn't a response from her when I opened the Banishing Box the next morning. However, I received another creepy letter from Ginny, and it had the unfortunate effect of spoiling our day. No matter what we did to distract ourselves from the uneasy feeling it had instilled in us, nothing helped. Not even a long and hard work-out in the gym managed to calm us down.

'You've got to do something about her, Harry. Collecting the evidence and waiting for her next move isn't enough,' Daphne told me when we returned to the suite after our work-out.

'You're right,' I agreed while I slumped down on the sofa and rubbed my face with the palms of my hands. By now, Daphne had taught me enough about Pureblood customs that I knew what my next move had to be. Even though the Weasleys were blood-traitors – and proud of that – at least Mr Weasley and his wife had the Pureblood code of conduct ingrained into them and would take a formal complaint to the Head of House about Ginny's conduct seriously. But that didn't mean I had to like the prospect of having to write such a letter.

However, I got to my feet and walked to the desk to get it over with.

Daphne patted my shoulder encouragingly and disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for the evening.

I was still seated at the desk, trying to compose the letter to Mr Weasley, when she returned. With raised eyebrows she looked at the many balls of scrunched up paper in the waste-paper basket and beside it. Then she peeked over my shoulder and read what I had written so far.

I turned my head and looked up at her. 'That letter won't do, will it?

Daphne scrunched her nose. 'To tell you the truth, no. Why don't you stop trying to tell him what happened? Just ask for a meeting with him and his heir as soon as we're back in England. It should be before the ball in honour of the veterans of the Battle. You don't want her to kick up a stink there, do you?'

'Merlin, no!' I exclaimed as I blanched. I scrunched up the sheet of paper in front of me and drew a new one towards me. This time, I had no problems to write a short letter, asking for an appointment in the backroom of the _Leaky Cauldron_ on the 3rd of May. With a relieved sigh I put the biro down. Then I put the letter into an envelope and sent it off through the Banishing Box.

At least, I was now doing something about the Ginny problem, I thought while I walked into the bathroom.

 **HP - DG**

We virtually fled from board when the _Princess Isabella_ reached Mauritius the morning after. Once again we had opted for a beach day in favour of sightseeing.

A bus drove us across the island to a small yacht harbour. There we entered a catamaran and sailed along the coast to the Isles aux Cerfs. On our way, we had a stop at a reef for some snorkelling. It was nice, but not as impressive as our snorkelling trip at the Great Barrier Reef had been.

We reached our final destination around lunch time and were dropped at the pier of a posh resort. After a sumptuous lunch, we settled down in deckchairs on the beach. Of course, Daphne and I couldn't resist the temptation of the crystal clear water for long.

Late in the afternoon a ferry brought us back to the main island, and we entered another bus for the ride across the island, back to Port Louis, where the _Princess Isabella_ waited for us, ready to lift anchors and set sail once more.

 **HP - DG**

Melissa's answer came two days later, after another day where we had managed to escape the Wizarding world on a sightseeing tour on the Ile de la Reunion.

Once again, I pulled a large, bulky envelope out of the Banishing Box. 'Another marriage contract, by the looks of it,' I remarked as I handed it to Daphne.

Suffice to say, I also found three letters from Ginny when I perused the rest of the Box's contents. Though I opened them and filed them away with the rest, I didn't read them. I was not inclined to be worn down by the sick barrage of words of a stalker ever again.

Daphne opened the envelope she had received from Melissa and perused the contract. I jumped when she let out a hiss like Crookshanks, on the night he had gone after Scabbers. She sprang up and turned to the window, breathing hard. Had she had a tail, it would have whipped the air.

I stood up and stepped behind her, wanting to put my hand on her shoulder.

She raised her hand, forestalling me. 'You'd better not touch me right now, Harry! I'm so angry that I'll probably lash out at you!'

Never before had I seen her this angry, and I wisely refrained from making any comment. Instead, I sat down on the sofa and waited until she had calmed herself.

She took a couple of deep breaths. Then she turned around and sat down beside me. Her eyes were still dark with anger. She took another deep breath, as if to fortify herself. 'The offer is from Lucius Malfoy, Head of House Malfoy. He graciously allows his son to marry me and restore my good name, in exchange for Greengrass Shipping and my seat on the Wizengamot. Oh, and I have to present the Malfoy line with a male heir. After that, I'm allowed to withdraw to a house Lucius will choose for me and an allowance he alone can decide on.'

I felt the bile rise in my throat. Before I knew what overcame me, I slipped my wand out and directed it at the contract. It burst out in flames with a most satisfying, whooshing sound. The heat was so intense that there were no ashes left.

Daphne relaxed visibly and leaned against me. 'Merlin, you still hate the ferret!'

'No, I don't hate him,' I contradicted as I put my arm around her. 'My anger wasn't directed at him, but at Lucius. I know Malfoy is nothing but a poor bugger who had no chance of developing some backbone with a father like Lucius. He's a coward, but not a killer, even though he fancies himself to be one.'

My words caused her to smile faintly. 'You know him very well.'

'It took me a long time until I came to that conclusion. After all, I was as big a git as he was at school.'

'That's not your fault! You were abused and manipulated by those who should have helped you!' she protested.

'Thanks for your loyalty, love, but I know I was an idiot back then.'

She still looked as if she didn't agree. 'Maybe a small one,' she finally conceded. 'But there's no denying that even as a school boy you possessed a degree of decency and moral backbone no Slytherin could ever hope to achieve. You always did what was right, although it was almost killing you.'

'You are wrong, you know,' I told her. 'I'm not the infallible moral compass of magical society the _Daily Prophet_ made me after the Battle. That was nothing more than a poorly veiled attempt to get back in my good graces after their slanderous campaign before our fifth year. I did quite a lot of things I'm not proud of and that could have even landed me in Azkaban.'

The look she gave me was one of utter disbelief. 'Not you, Harry!'

'And yet I did,' I contradicted her. Then I told her about my confrontation with Malfoy during our sixth year.

'But he cast the Torture Curse on you!' she objected.

'And I sidestepped it and retaliated in my blind anger and hate with a curse, the consequence of which I had no idea! The marginal note in the book of the Half-Blood Prince should have been warning enough not to use that curse before I'd tested it. I could have killed him, Daphne!'

'You could, but you never had the intention of killing him. You even didn't want to hurt him. You just thought it would be something funny, like the other hex you'd found. It's like a Muggle driver losing control of the car because he was distracted for a second and a pedestrian gets seriously hurt. He'd be punished for it, but not in the same way as if he'd used his car as a weapon to intentionally kill the pedestrian. You got punished for it, didn't you?'

The memory of my punishment after my less than stellar deed still had the power to make me grimace. 'I got detention with Snape every night until the end of the school year.'

'Now, that _was_ a hard punishment,' she smiled.

I sighed. 'I can't do anything wrong in your eyes, can I?'

'Not much,' she said. 'Mark you, if you were going to forget my birthday or our anniversary...'

That made me chuckle, though I interrupted her. 'Don't try to side-track me, love. I'll give you another reason not to look at me through pink glasses, though it's of course very flattering to my ego.'

'Prat!' she chuckled.

'Exactly! That's what I've been trying to make you understand for the last ten minutes,' I replied. 'I've used two of the Unforgivable Curses.'

Her eyes got wide at that. 'When and against whom?' she asked finally.

'The first time was during the fight against the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Bellatrix Lestrange had just sent Sirius through the Veil. I was out of my mind that moment. I went after her and cast the Torture Curse at her.'

She gave me a shrewd side glance. 'To what result?'

'It didn't as much as even tickle her,' I replied. 'She obviously got a thrill out of being tortured.'

'Ew!' Daphne made a face. 'Well, I agree, it was not one of your best moments, but you were mad with grief and obviously didn't do her any harm.' She scrunched her nose. 'Quite the contrary,' she added as an afterthought.

I snorted at that. 'All right. What about what I did to Snape after I thought he killed Dumbledore? At least half the school saw me chasing after him and trying to throw Unforgivables and dark curses at him. Believe me, I wanted to hurt him at that moment, even kill him!'

'I was there,' she nodded. 'I also saw that you were out of your mind because of grief. It was obvious. After all, you just thought he killed your mentor. But he was way out of your league. Not once was he in danger from you.' She raised her hand and brushed my cheek. 'I think you can plead extenuating circumstances in both cases, love.'

'Well, during our break-in at Gringotts I cast the Imperius Curse on one of the Goblins,' I said, continuing with my confession.

She knew everything about the break-in by now. It had been in the papers during the days after the Battle of Hogwarts, but I'd also given her an overview over our hunt for the Horcruxes.

Cocking her head to the side, Daphne considered my words. 'Did you try to come up with a better plan before?'

'Of course we did. I don't know how many times we discussed our plan with Griphook. It was he who pointed out that we'd need to put the Goblin on guard under the Imperius Curse.'

'Again, extenuating circumstances. You already got off of the consequences of the break-in because of that, didn't you? You wouldn't have got the Horcrux otherwise, even the Goblins acknowledged that,' she decided.

That was true. Kingsley had told me about his negotiations with the Goblins to prevent me from the repercussions of my stunt. It had been my luck that keeping dark items in the vaults was against the contract between the Wizarding world and the Goblins. They had stopped screaming for my blood after they had learned of the Horcrux and accepted the reparations Kingsley offered in the name of the Wizarding world.

'Were there any more instances you've used the Unforgivables, love?' she asked.

'The last time was just before the Battle. It was in the Ravenclaw common room. I cast the Torture Curse on Amycus Carrow after he spat at Professor McGonagall,' I told her.

'Well, the deed certainly doesn't rectify the punishment. But I see no reason for Carrow to complain. The Torture Course was legal during that time. The Wizengamot countermanded the criminal nature of the Torture Curse immediately after Voldemort came into full power. That's the reason why students had to practise it on each other at Hogwarts,' my wonderful fiancé told me.

I stared at her. I had completely forgotten about that.

She smiled and put her arms around my waist in a short hug. 'See? There's no need to beat yourself up over what you've done. You fought a war. There isn't something like a morally clean war, Harry. You can't help doing things you're not proud of then, may it be out of necessity or because your feelings get the better of you.' She hugged me again. 'Anyway, it doesn't change my opinion of you, love.'

I threw my arms in the air in mock frustration. 'I give up!' Then I put my arms around her. 'You also have no reason to doubt your moral standards just because you're a Slytherin, love. You also fought against him,' I told her, hugging her towards me.

She shook her head. 'Not like you, Harry. I chose a side at the last possible moment, and not before I was forced to do so. Even then I went about it in a way that left me the option to join the winning side, in case you'd have failed and Voldemort would've prevailed.' She shuddered. 'I'm not proud of that,' she added quietly.

'Self preservation is a very strong human trait,' I replied. 'You did what was right in the end, Daphne, and that's all that matters.'

She still didn't look convinced.

 **HP - DG**

I had no idea whether Daphne sent Melissa another Howler that day, for there wasn't any mail from her the next morning. Unfortunately, that couldn't be said about Ginny. I was considering to ask Daphne to show me how to make a Howler as I filed away another rather creepy letter from my ex.

The next morning, however, brought another attempt of Melissa to establish a respectable marriage for Daphne. This time Daphne read the contract without any outward sign of anger. She then turned to the letter that accompanied the contract and frowned.

'What did Melissa write this time that irks you?' I asked, looking up from my own mail.

'She issued an ultimatum,' Daphne grimaced. 'I have to agree to one of the offers she sent me until I reach Southampton, or she'll choose for me.'

'She can't do that! You're of age!' I protested.

'Legally, she can't,' Daphne agreed. 'But Purebloods have always had their ways to make their recalcitrant daughters behave. Thankfully, we're already engaged. I guess I'll have to write her and tell her the happy news soon.'

I rose my eyebrows at that. 'You didn't tell her yet? I thought you had after the Malfoy contract.'

Daphne gave me an impish grin in return. 'No, I was curious to see what she was willing to do to protect the Greengrass name. But this has gone too far.'

'Snake!' I replied and shook my head. Although, I couldn't really blame her: not wanting the additional attention, we hadn't told any of our co-passengers about our engagement, either; not even Alvirah and Willy. Daphne wore a Glamour Charm on her hand every time we left the suite. I had no one to tell about our engagement anymore. I'd never been on writing terms with any of my classmates except Ron and Hermione, so it felt weird to write to Neville and Luna, just to tell them about my engagement. They would learn soon enough when we returned to England.

She took my remark as a compliment, I think. Again, she pulled the contract towards her and scanned it.

'Who's the unhappy bloke who won't get you?' I joked.

'It's Theo,' she informed me with a giggle. 'Actually, he'll be extremely happy about my refusal. He doesn't want to marry me.'

'Come again? Why by Merlin's saggy nadgers does he offer for you if he doesn't want to marry you?' I asked, flummoxed.

'Language, Harry,' she reprimanded me, but she lacked Hermione's fervour on that score.

My grin showed her that I wasn't impressed at all.

'The contract is worded rather cleverly. It applies to any woman who descends from the House of Greengrass,' she explained.

It didn't take me long to figure that out. 'Davis! Nott wants to marry Davis!' I exclaimed. 'I'd never have thought he'd offer for a half-blood. His family also belongs to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, doesn't it?'

Daphne nodded. 'That's correct. Theo was his father's son, just like Malfoy, until our fifth year. Then something happened that made him change his point of view. Oh, outwardly he'd still pretend to be a blood supremacist and Death Eater wannabe. But inwardly he made a complete one-eighty.'

'What happened?' I asked, my curiosity piqued.

'Tracey happened,' Daphne replied with a small chuckle. 'She and Theo started dating. Secretly, of course. There would've been hell to pay for them from our housemates and Theo's family, had they come into the open. Even though Tracey never spoke about her blood status, everyone knew that she was a half-blood. After all, we all had to learn our genealogy sheets before we came to Hogwarts.'

I inwardly shook my head at that. Quite a lot of aspects of Pureblood culture were just plain ridiculous.

'Theo was devastated when Tracey disappeared in the summer before our sixth year and didn't return to Hogwarts. He became withdrawn and eventually broke up with his old friends, especially Malfoy,' Daphne continued. 'Tracey wrote to me that they ran into each other in Diagon Alley the day after the Davis' had returned to England.' Again, she chuckled. 'Obviously, the spark's still there. Believe me, I'd never have expected to get such a sappy letter from Tracey! She used to be the tough girl while we shared a dorm.'

A Davis head over heels in love was hard to imagine, I had to give her that. 'What are you going to do about it?' I asked.

'Oh, that's easy. I'll enter into negotiations with him, as he so formally requested of the Head of House Greengrass. I suppose he'll already wait for us at the pier when the _Princess Isabella_ arrives in Southampton,' Daphne grinned.

I raised my eyebrows at that. 'You're going to keep the poor bloke in suspense for another three weeks? Why in the world would you do that?'

'He wants something from me, but in turn he'll have to give me something we need,' she explained. 'The longer I keep him in the loop, the more agreeable he'll be to my suggestion.'

My lack of understanding must have shown on my face, because she said, 'I want Theo to join the neutral faction, Harry.'

I frowned at that. Though her course of action was a far cry from the bribery Lucius Malfoy had employed, it didn't sit well with me. On the other hand, I had heard enough from her about the workings of Slytherin house – and was Slytherin enough on the inside myself – to understand where she came from, and that no Slytherin would think badly of her because of the means she employed to get her way. They dealt in favours, not in money.

So, I didn't object as loud and as vehemently to her plans as I would have during my school days. Instead, I decided to employ my own inner Slytherin. 'I think you won't need to use these tactics on him, love. He fought in the Battle. That means he'd left his father's political stance behind him. I bet he'll take the chance to join the neutral faction as soon as it's offered to him, especially if you hint that will also include my acquaintanceship. Be generous to him about his offer for Tracey, and he'll eat out of the palm of your hand.'

She considered my point of view. 'You're right, love,' she finally agreed. 'I'll write him today that I'll accept his offer for Tracey and will meet with him to negotiate the details as soon as we're back in England.' She immediately started to act on her words and pulled the parchment towards her.

She never noticed the small smile of satisfaction on my lips when I returned to my own mail.

 **HP – DG**

The next day the _Princess Isabella_ reached South Africa, and anchored in Port Elizabeth. Most passengers chose a guided tour through one of the game reserves around the city. Daphne and I opted for a guided tour through the Addo Elephant National Park in a small group. As the name said, we saw many elephants, but also lions, kudus, buffaloes and hyenas. It was interesting, but personally I couldn't wait for the _Princess Isabella_ to reach Cape Town.

That would be the case two days later. That evening, Daphne finally agreed on a shark cage diving tour.

'All right, Harry. Book the tour,' she said when we had to make the reservations. 'I'll even come with you.'

I looked at her, flabbergasted. 'Daphne, you're as afraid as hell of sharks! You'll be stressed out all day long.'

She shrugged and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Probably. But I'm also engaged to you, and that means I'll stand by your side, be it in the Wizengamot or in a small boat with a horde of great white sharks swimming around us. The sharks are probably less dangerous, I suppose.'

That made me laugh. I put my arms around her and kissed her. 'Thank you, Daphne! I'll make it up to you in Madeira.'

Leaning against me, she let a hand run through my hair. 'I'll take you up on that, love. Mind you, if you get eaten up by a shark, I'll never speak a word to you again.'

I burst out laughing at that, which of course earned me a slap on the shoulder.

'You are a...' she started, but never finished the sentence as I pressed my lips onto hers.

 **HP - DG**

A car picked us up at the pier early in the morning. From there, we drove to a small port near Cape Town. It was a sunny, yet windy day, and the air smelt of salt and seaweed. We got a thorough safety briefing, and then entered a boat that would bring us to the spots where the great white sharks could be usually seen.

The ride was draughty and cold. Quite frequently, we were hit by sea spray. Thankfully, the company provided us with jackets for protection against the cold and the frequent showers. However, Daphne huddled against me. Her face looked very small and pale against the bright orange of the protection jacket. I grasped her hand. It was ice cold and trembled slightly.

Finally, we reached the first viewing spot, and the crew began to attract the huge predators. It didn't take long for the first sharks to turn up. Daphne watched them, a mix of fascination and terror on her face, and shuddered.

Those who wished to enter the iron cage at the side of the boat, were given wet suits and masks. Of course, I also wanted to have a first row look.

While I waited for my turn to enter the cage, we watched the awe-inspiring animals from above as they circled the boat in search for of prey, and shot out of the water, snapping for the baits the crew had laid out. They were huge, and it was easy to imagine that they could swallow you with one bite. I was beginning to have second thoughts about my wish to enter the cage.

Even though Daphne was terrified of the sharks – as her white face clearly betrayed – and not at all happy with me that I wanted to go into the water, she tried to be a good sport about it. 'Look at that one, Harry,' she grinned at me and pointed at an exceptionally large shark that swam below us. 'He has a bib with your name on it!'

'Hah-hah!' I replied, but had no time to come up with a witty retort, because it was now my turn to enter the cage.

Daphne went even paler. 'Be careful,' she whispered in my ear as she kissed me on the cheek.

I nodded and gave her a brief hug, my throat suddenly too dry to speak. Surreptitiously, I felt for the wand in its invisible holster at my right forearm and drew comfort from the thought that I could immediately Apparate out of the cage if need be.

I took a deep breath. My heart beat like a jack-hammer when I climbed into the cage. In spite of the wetsuit that protected me the water was freezing cold. My co-divers were all distracted by the adventure we were about to have, so I dared to cast a Warming Charm on myself, before I took a deep breath and dunked into the water.

The first impression were hundreds of dull, yet loud noises around me. The sea was choppy and the visibility was not more than nine yards. I heard the gurgling of the waves clashing against the side of the boat, interspersed with the clanking of the cage every time it touched the boat – or was rammed by a shark.

The crew drew baits through the water, right in front of the cage. Three huge white sharks were trying to get at them. They shot towards the cage, and I involuntarily recoiled until I was pressed flat against the back of the cage. My co-divers didn't fare any better. The huge predators snapped for the bait, but instead bit into the upper part of the cage. For a second I got the impression of wide open jaws with rows of murderous teeth right in front of me, before the animals dived away, in search of the elusive bait. I shuddered, yet I couldn't help but admire the powerful, yet graceful movements of the impressive predators.

Even though I wore a wetsuit and had cast a Warming Charm on me, I couldn't stay in the icy water for long. My teeth clattered, but the grin on my face almost split my face into halves as I climbed out of the cage. This surely had been one of the most impressive experiences of my life.

 **HP – DG**

Our stay in Cape Town had been the last highlight of the cruise. Ten long days at sea followed before the _Princess Isabella_ would reach the Island of Madeira, the last destination of the cruise before we headed back to Southampton.

We enjoyed the last, lazy days before we were to be back in the Wizarding world and under constant scrutiny. I had learned to deal with Ginny's daily letters by now and simply filed them away.

If I had thought Cousin Melissa would stop harassing Daphne after she had learned about our engagement, I was utterly mistaken. The day after we had left Cape Town, Daphne received another bulky letter from her.

My fiancé frowned as she opened it. 'What by Merlin's unmentionables does she want now?' she asked rhetorically.

I waited with baited breath until Daphne had finished reading the letter. I don't know what I had expected her reaction would be, but I had surely not expected her to break out into laughter. 'Care to share what's so funny?' I asked.

Daphne handed me the letter. 'She's already planning our wedding,' she wheezed.

'She's what?' I exclaimed and took the letter from her. A quick scan told me my fiancé hadn't lied. The letter contained lists of possible dates, places and whatever else women thought necessary for a wedding. I blinked, not trusting my eyes.

'Are you going to let her go on with this?' I asked as I handed the letter back to Daphne. 'I mean, we haven't talked about all that yet.' I gestured towards the letter. 'But she's got a point. Aren't we supposed to pick a date and all that?'

'And all that,' Daphne smiled and blew me a kiss. 'I think there isn't a girl on earth who hasn't dreamed about her perfect wedding before she's even entered school. I'm no exception to that. I've always dreamt of getting married in the summer in the gazebo that overlooks the pond and the gardens of Grenian Hall.'

I smiled at her and took her hand. 'That sounds nice.'

She beamed and squeezed my hand. 'I'm happy you like it. However, that will have to wait until I've rebuilt Grenian Hall. I've already written to the Goblins for a first meeting with their constructors after we're back, but I think it'll take at least three years until everything is ready. At the moment, I only have the money to get the foundation work done after I've obtained a pair of new elves to maintain the wards. Do you mind waiting that long?'

'You know I don't,' I replied. 'Though, three years is a long time. I'd thought...' I interrupted myself and furrowed my eyebrows when an idea began to take shape in my mind.

Daphne gave me a questioning glance. 'What's the matter, Harry?'

'You're talking about magical marriage vows, aren't you?' I asked.

She nodded.

'Will they be recognised by the Muggle authorities? You know most of the Potter Holdings are Muggle. So, it would be an advantage if the Muggle authorities also knew about our marriage.'

'That's a valid point,' she conceded. 'I'm positive that magical marriage vows are not automatically registered with the Muggles. In fact, I remember Melissa telling me that she and Matthew had to deal with the Muggle tax department and they needed their marriage certificate. They took a blank sheet of paper and silently Confounded the officer.'

I considered that. It was a fast and practical solution, but once again a reminder that the Wizarding world looked down on Muggles and often fooled them. I didn't want to be like that. There had to be another way. 'That's not a good idea, considering how vast the Potter Holdings are. Something like that will probably blow up in our faces one day,' I told my fiancé.

'Very likely,' Daphne agreed and bit her lips. 'So, you think we ought to get married the Muggle way, too?'

'That seems to be the sensible thing to do, doesn't it? Or will we get in trouble for that with the Ministry for Magic?' My heart started pounding hard. Would she agree with my idea?

Daphne shook her head. 'No, there's no problem. In fact, the Ministry treats a Muggle marriage like a magical civil marriage. For example, like a couple bound only by a marriage contract and not also by magical binding vows. You can have both of it or choose only a contract or the vows, just as you please. In fact, most Pureblood couples have a marriage contract in the beginning and exchange their magically binding vows only after a magical child is born into their union.'

I made a face to that. 'That's wrong on so many levels!'

'I agree,' Daphne said. 'But that's the way it was for centuries and still is for many families. People don't change their tunes just because you've won the Battle, Harry! It will take years, probably decades, to vanquish Pureblood ideas, and I daresay you won't be successful with every family.'

'Most likely,' I sighed. I stood up and stepped behind her chair, wrapping my arms around her. 'What do you think about having a Muggle civil wedding here on the _Princess Isabella_? Then we can rebuild Grenian House together and exchange our magical vows there as soon as it's ready.'

Daphne's breath caught, then her eyes got wide. She turned her head to me. 'You mean – now? Before we reach Southampton?'

'Either that or we'll return for another cruise whenever you like and get married then,' I replied, my heart thumping like a drum.

She considered my words for seemingly endless minutes. Then a look of determination spread over her face. 'Let's do it now, Harry!'

I couldn't believe my luck. 'Are you sure, love?' I asked, just to be certain.

The light in her eyes almost blinded me. 'Absolutely!'

I whooped with joy, picked her up and whirled her around.

'Put me down, you oaf!' Daphne laughed. When I obeyed, she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me until I was dizzy.

We spent the rest of the morning making plans. As a result, we went to the counter of the cruise agency after lunch and had a long talk with the cruise director.

If he was amazed or sceptical about our plans, he hid it well under his professionalism. Probably he thought that marriages could be divorced easily these days, so it wouldn't matter if we made a mistake. Instead, he promised to do everything that was necessary that we could get married the day before we reached Southampton, though he wasn't sure if the papers would come back from the Bahamas in time. He asked us if we had witnesses to stand up with us and pointed out that the officers and he himself would be honoured to be of service.

But we both agreed that we wanted to have Alvirah and Willy with us that day. 'I don't want to know what would have happened, hadn't Alvirah talked some sense into you!' Daphne teased me. However, we weren't about to tell them right now, but were planning to surprise them on the day of the wedding. Of course, we had to swear the cruise director to secrecy.

He laughed and promised not to tell.

 **HP – DG**

The closer we got to England, the more we were sucked into the problems that waited there for us. Our schedule for our first week home filled rapidly a long time before we even reached Madeira.

Daphne had written to Melissa and politely declined her suggestions for our upcoming nuptials. Instead, she had told her about our plans to rebuild Grenian Hall and to get married there.

She got an enthusiastic letter back. Melissa was delighted that she planned to rebuild the family seat. She announced that she and her family would meet us at the pier in Southampton. After that, we would drive to the Davis' house and have dinner there and talk about the wedding.

'Are you going to accept that invitation?' I asked.

Daphne nodded. 'After all, I didn't get to see her face when she read about our engagement. Can you imagine her face when she once again tries to get me to move in with them and I'll tell her that I'd rather stay with my husband?'

I laughed at that. 'Yes, that will be interesting.'

So, Daphne wrote her cousin and accepted the invitation on behalf of both of us.

On the 2nd of May there was to be a memorial service on the grounds of Hogwarts. _The service will honour the fallen of the Battle, but we will remember all victims of the first and the second War against Voldemort,_ Kingsley had written to me in the letter where he told me about the planned festivities for Memorial Week. Daphne and I both had received a formal invitation to that event, to Daphne's big surprise.

'Your parents are victims of the war, just like my parents or the Longbottoms,' I reminded her.

'Granted, but I'm a Slytherin and a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.' She almost spat the last words.

I raised my eyebrows at that. 'And your point is?'

'People will automatically assume I'm a Pureblood supremacist because of that,' she replied and bit her lip.

Her worries were justified, I had to admit. Unfortunately, Ron and Dawlish were not alone with their prejudices. 'They'll see how wrong they were at the awards ceremony,' I tried to console her.

The awards ceremony was on the 5th of May and would take place in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Everyone who had fought in the Battle would be awarded at least with an Order of Merlin, 3rd class. That included the house elves, the Centaurs and Grawp too. I had insisted on that, if the Ministry wanted me to accept the Order of Merlin, 1st class, I was going to be awarded that day. I could almost hear Kingsley's booming laughter when he told me in one of his letters what a tizzy my demand had caused within the Wizengamot and the Ministry.

As a veteran of the Battle, Daphne also received an invitation to that event. She was to be awarded an Order of Merlin, 3rd class, as most of the defenders of Hogwarts. She had almost forgotten to breathe the day the letter arrived and she read the invitation.

'Provided that they aren't occupied with booing me,' was all Daphne answered now to my last remark.

'I doubt that. Before the decision about the award was made, everyone and his or her contribution to the Battle was checked thoroughly. That you get an award shows that you earned it.'

She still looked doubtful.

'Besides, people will be too busy with gossiping about the change of your name,' I reminded her. During the awards ceremony, the recipients of one class would be called in alphabetical order of their last name. Daphne's name would then be Potter, or at least Potter-Greengrass. She hadn't decided yet whether to keep her maiden name with hyphenates. We were going to inform Kingsley two days before the ceremony.

At Daphne's suggestion I'd asked Kingsley and his lady-friend Hestia Jones to visit us for dinner on the 3rd. She had pointed out that I ought to talk to Kingsley about my plans for the Wizengamot as soon as possible, and I had agreed.

Arthur Weasley had written back and agreed on meeting us on the morning of the 3rd of May at the _Leaky Cauldron._ I was not looking forward to that meeting, but it had to be done.

The biggest surprise, however, was a letter from Hermione. It didn't say much, only that she was sorry and needed to talk to Daphne and me. She asked us to stay after the memorial service and talk with her. Of course, I had agreed. The 2nd of May was a Sunday this year. I did not foresee any difficulties in finding an undisturbed spot on the grounds to talk.

In any event, it looked as if we were going to be busy for the first three days after our return, with a short reprieve on the 4th of May. Although, I was afraid that day would be a bad one for Daphne. It was the first anniversary of the day she had returned home from the Battle, only to find her home destroyed, her father killed and her mother tortured into insanity.

Daphne's birthday was on the 7th. I already had plans for that day, though Daphne had no idea what I was planning and wouldn't find out before her birthday.

The Ministry Ball in honour of the veterans of the Battle of Hogwarts would take place on the 8th. After that, we would hopefully be able to settle into our normal life. Though, I had my doubts about that. Normality was not a concept that applied to me, considering my life up till now. And while I didn't need a new Dark Lord coming after me any time soon, I was looking forward to the challenge of trying to change our society, Daphne by my side.

 **HP – DG**

Before we knew it, the _Princess Isabella_ reached Madeira. This time, Daphne got to pick how we would spend our time on land. Although an island, Madeira wasn't famous for its beaches, so I wondered which of the offered activities would catch Daphne's fancy.

She picked a hiking trip that led us alongside a _Levada_ – an ancient irrigation channel – up into the mountains. The vegetation alongside the channel was overwhelming, and probably the reason why she had picked that route. After an hour I had lost count how many times she had stopped and pointed out rare plants to me, quite a lot of them even being magical. However, I was a good sport about it, just as she had been during the shark cage diving trip, and listened to her explanations attentively. Though I have to admit I had more fun observing her obvious enthusiasm than actually admiring the plants.

The tour ended at a small hut where we enjoyed the picnic the crew had packed for us. Thanks to Featherweight Charms it hadn't been a bother at all to carry the food in my backpack. Instead of walking, we decided to Apparate back to the starting point, from where we took the bus to Funchal. We still had some time on our hands which we spend exploring the small town, before we returned to the ship.

Back in our cabin we found the papers we needed to get married on board, with a note from the cruise director that the ceremony would take place the day after tomorrow in the afternoon on the bridge.

Daphne and I shared a look.

'That was fast!' she remarked. 'I hadn't expected them to get the papers in time.'

'There's still time enough to cancel it if you've got second thoughts, Daphne,' I told her.

She shook her head. 'I'm not having second thoughts, love. I was just surprised. You heard the cruise director saying that he was not sure if the papers would come back from the Bahamas in time. I'd thought we would've needed to book another cruise to get married later in the year.'

'When are we going to tell Alvirah and Willy?' I asked.

'Tomorrow night after dinner. I can't wait to see Alvirah's face!' Daphne grinned.

 **HP – DG**

For the rest of my life, I cursed myself that I didn't think of bringing a camera with me when we asked Alvirah and Willy to be our witnesses.

Alvirah gaped at us, open mouthed, for at least a minute, her eyes wide open.

'I think you broke her,' Willy said with an amused side-glance at his wife. 'Congratulations to both of you! I'm honoured to be your witness.'

We were in the atrium of the _Princess Isabella._ It was a huge room with a bar to one side and the reception on the other. Groups of comfortable low chairs around small tables were scattered around the room. Soft piano music played in the background. As always, the atrium wasn't as crowded and as noisy as the bars. It was the place to go on board if you wanted to enjoy a nice talk with your friends over a drink.

Willy signalled the waiter and ordered champagne for all of us.

The arrival of the sparkling beverage finally roused his wife out of her stupor. She jumped up and hugged first Daphne, then me. 'I always said you make a wonderful couple!' she cried.

'So, you don't think we're rushing in?' Daphne asked after Willy and Alvirah had brought out a toast to us.

'Well, on the outside, it certainly seems so,' Alvirah replied, putting her glass on the table. 'But I've watched you closely over the last months. You have a lot in common. You've both lost your parents at a very young age and have to fend for yourself while most of your peers are still living with their parents and can rely on their advice. You need and depend on each other in a way that other young people of your age wouldn't understand. An early marriage will give you the sense of belonging and family you're both missing. So, I'd say go for it! Of course, there are no guarantees, but if I ever saw a couple who can make it work, it's the two of you. I never saw young people of your age who are that considerate of each other as you are.'

Daphne and I exchanged a look and blushed.

'Thank you, Alvirah! That means a lot to us,' Daphne said.

We stayed in the atrium with the Meehans until the wee hours of the morning. They regaled us with stories of their early years of marriage. I think I never laughed as hard and as much as that night.

Of course we overslept the next morning. There was no time for our usual morning swim. We went down for a late breakfast, and then Daphne left me with a kiss on my cheek. She and Alvirah had an appointment at the spa that morning.

I had no idea what to do with myself. While I walked to the elevator to get back to the suite, I realised that it was impossible for me to sit in the suite and wait for Daphne's return. So, I changed and went for a long run on the track.

The run did wonders to calm down my nerves. I wouldn't admit it for anything in the world, but I was a nervous wreck that day. Until then, I had had no idea that it was possible to be completely over the moon and frightened to death at the same time.

Finally, Daphne returned from the spa. Obviously, she and Alvirah had enjoyed themselves immensely, with a glass of champagne or two, because her cheeks were glowing and her eyes beamed like stars.

We met the Meehans for a late lunch at the Lido Cafe. Willy and I exchanged a look and decided in mutual, but silent agreement, to order coffee afterwards. However, it didn't help much to sober up Daphne.

Alvirah took me aside before we left to get changed for the big event. 'She didn't have that much, Harry. I made sure of that. I think she's just drunk with happiness.'

She had a point there. Daphne practically danced back to our suite.

Her happiness was contagious. I felt my inward agitation fade away. Instead, I felt a certainty come over me – the step we were taking today was the right thing to do.

We took our time to get changed. That is, Daphne took her time. I was waiting for her for about an hour, dressed in the grey suit she had picked out for me that day in Fort Lauderdale. It seemed so long ago, after all we had experienced, but only just three and a half months had passed since then.

Finally, Daphne emerged from the bedroom. That moment, time and space ceased to exist for me. Daphne is one of the most beautiful women I'd ever met, even if I have to agree that I'm more than slightly biased in that regard. However, that day her beauty was not from this world. It was not so much the way she looked – she wore a simple summer dress and sandals, and as always next to no make-up – but in the way she smiled at me and the blissful expression on her face. I swear, had Voldemort ever had a woman look at him that way, he would never have thought of getting the magical world under his thumb. He would have been too busy making her happier than ever to squander a thought on world supremacy.

'Breathe, Harry!' she said and touched my arm.

I hadn't realised that I had been staring at her open mouthed. 'You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,' I told her, taking a deep breath.

She smiled and caressed my cheek. 'Thank you, love!'

I bent down and handed her the small bouquet of pink roses I had ordered for her. The flowers matched her dress perfectly.

She took my arm, and then we walked down to the bridge on the deck below us. Alvirah and Willy were already waiting for us.

My memory of the events that followed are hazy, I have to admit. I remember that we were ushered onto the bridge. The captain greeted us and then held a small speech, but I can't remember what he talked about. Not once did my eyes leave Daphne's face. I suppose I must have looked like an idiot with that broad, goofy grin on my face. However, I managed to say "yes" when it was expected to me. Daphne's triumphant "YES!" followed only seconds later.

'You may kiss the bride,' the captain said through the laughter of Alvirah, Willy and the officers on the bridge.

Daphne threw her arms around my neck and we exchanged a short kiss. I could feel her broad smile under my lips.

Everyone congratulated us. A laughing and crying Alvirah gave us a hug that rivalled Mrs Weasley's best. Someone pressed a glass of champagne in my hand, and everyone toasted to us, even the captain and the officers, though they had orange juice in their glasses.

Hand in hand, Daphne and I walked back to our suite. We knew that a special romantic dinner awaited us there, courtesy of the cruise company. As we had expected, the dinner was already there, tastefully arranged on the dining table, and a bottle of champagne waited in the cooler.

However, we hadn't counted on the whole suite being decked in red roses, streamers and little hearts. There were even rose petals on the bed and in the bathtub, as we found out when we took a quick tour of the suite.

Daphne and I exchanged a look. I saw how the corners of her mouth twitched, while her eyes again were drawn as if by a magnet to the rose petals floating in the bathtub.

'Are you thinking what I'm thinking right now?' I asked, my voice quivering.

She nodded, her eyes full of mirth.

The next second we both lost the struggle against our laughter.

'Sweet Morgana! That looks like Madam Puddifoot's on Valentine's Day!' my wife wheezed and leaned against me.

I put my arms around her. 'Yes, the only thing that's missing is the little cupids, throwing confetti in our hair.'

'And on our plates,' my wife supplemented. That set us off again.

Daphne was the first to calm down. She looked at me, a light in her eyes that made my knees suddenly turn into jelly, and slung her arms around my neck. 'Don't you think it would be an awful waste to let the water in that bathtub go cold?' she purred in my ear.

'Absolutely, Mrs Potter,' I agreed and kissed her while my hands fumbled for the zipper of her dress.

We didn't let the water go to waste that night. The dinner, however, had gone cold when we finally remembered it.


	8. Interlude - Homecoming

**Author's notes: Everything belongs to J.K.R.**

 **Due to a couple of downright abusive and creepy reviews I won't accept anonymous reviews anymore. Sorry about that.**

 **HP - DG**

 **Interlude**

 **Homecoming**

When we left the _Princess Isabella_ for a last time in Southampton on the first of May, the Davis family stood behind the barrier in the hall of the cruise terminal, waving at us with big smiles on their faces. Matt jumped up and down behind the barrier, and Melissa seemed to have her hands full to hold him back.

Daphne had not yet seen her relatives. She had a hard time leaving the ship that had witnessed momentous changes in our lives, and turned back ever so often to have a last look. Our good byes to Alvirah and Willy also had been tearful, but we had promised to stay in touch and let hear of us as soon as we had settled down in our new life as a married couple.

Little did my wife know that I had already booked a cruise around Europe in "our" suite for August of next year. With a little luck it would be our honeymoon, if we managed to rebuild Grenian House in time to exchange our magical vows there. Smiling to myself, I touched Daphne's arm. 'Look who's waiting for us.'

She turned around. Her eyes searched the crowd of people assembled in the hall of the cruise terminal, who apparently were all waiting to either pick up relatives who went from board today, or who were about to enter the _Princess Isabella_ for the upcoming trip to New York. Finally, she discovered the Davis'. A broad smile appeared on her face, and she raised her arm to wave back. Then she turned her head and smirked at me. 'I told you that Theo would be waiting for me in Southampton to finalise the details.'

I took another look at the Davis family. She was right: beside Davis stood a tall, young man with brown hair and light skin, his arm wrapped around Davis' waist. I wouldn't have recognised him. Nott had always been a pale and weedy child, and a bit on the small side, just like me. Apparently, he was a late bloomer and had changed a lot during the last year. He had grown quite a bit and lost his sick looks.

'I bow to your suprior knowledge of your housemate, love,' I told her while we walked to the band to pick up our luggage. 'I, for my turn, can't wait to see Melissa's face when we tell her that we're already married.'

Daphne linked arms with me as we waited for our luggage to appear. 'Yes, that'll be interesting,' she replied with an unholy grin around her lips. I couldn't blame her; Melissa had been a huge annoyance ever since we left San Francisco, and derserved everything that was coming in my book.

We picked up our luggage and left the enclosed area. Matt ran toward us, Davis and Nott followed. I noticed they were holding hands. Behind them, in a more sedate pace, walked Melissa and Matthew.

Matt threw himself into Daphne's arms. 'Daphne! I've missed you so!'

She caught him and whirled him around. 'I also missed you, you little rascal!'

He screamed with delight, but of course protested that assault on his budding male dignity. Daphne laughed and let go of him, but not without tousling his hair. He backed off, still laughing, and turned around to greet me. I gave him a high five, which seemed to please him immensely as he returned the gesture.

'So, you're still hanging around with my cousin, Harry?' he grinned.

'Yeah; and I plan on doing so for quite a long time,' I replied, while I wrapped my arm around Daphne's waist, and kissed her on the cheek.

Matt made a face. 'That's gross! I'm never going to ask a girl to marry me when I have to do that kissing stuff!'

Meanwhile, Davis and Nott had reached us. They had heard Matt's last words and joined our laughter.

'I daresay you'll like it one day,' Nott grinned.

'Never!' Matt swore, which had us laughing again.

'Bugger off, munchkin!' Davis told her little brother. It sounded affectionately. Matthew obeyed, though he poked his tongue out at his sister.

Davis stepped to Daphne and hugged her. 'Welcome back home, Daphne, and my heartfelt congratulations.' The embrace she gave Daphne looked much warmer than the stiff hug the girls had exchanged back in San Francisco, when they met for the first time after the Davis' had fled from England.

'Thank you, Tracey!' Daphne beamed.

Of course Davis' first question was to see the engagement ring, and Daphne held out her hand, beaming with pride and joy. While Tracey exclaimed over Daphne's engagement ring – we both had put a Concealment Charm on our wedding bands as a surprise for Melissa – Nott turned to me and offered me his hand. 'My congratulations, Potter. Now I finally believe everything they say about you. It takes a very courageous man to conquer the Ice Queen of Slytherin.' It was the first time I saw a genuine smile on his face when he talked to me, instead of the sneer he used to give me when he was Malfoy's sidekick at Hogwarts.

Of course I had heard about Daphne's reputation during our school days. I had even witnessed a very embarrassed Seamus Finnegan hobbling to the infirmary in our fifth year, after an encounter with my future wife. He never told us what she had done to him, but since he had been a right git to me back then, I didn't care, and had even thought of congratulating Daphne for teaching Gryffindor's self-styled Casanova a lesson that day. I made a mental note to myself to ask her what she had done to him. It would probably be good to know what I had better to avoid, if I ever got on her bad side.

'You know, I never could resist a challenge,' I deadpanned, and shook Nott's hand. 'Daphne told me congratulations are in order, too?'

His eyes flicked to Davis, and his expression became soft as he watched his fiancé. She held her left hand out to Daphne, who was admiring the emerald ring she wore.

'Yes, thank you,' he replied. He seemed to be about to say more, but by now Melissa and Matthew had caught up with us, and showered Daphne with a new round of hugs and congratulations.

Davis turned to me and offered me her hand. 'Welcome to the family, Harry. I'm so happy for Daphne and you. I don't think I've ever seen Daphne that happy. She surely deserves happiness after the losses she has suffered.'

I took her hand and kissed her knuckles, as Daphne had taught me. 'Thank you, Davis. I agree with you, and I'll do everything to keep Daphne happy. May I also offer my congratulations to your upcoming nuptials?'

She gave me a smile full of sunshine in return. 'Thank you, Harry. But please, call me Tracey. After all, we're family now.'

There was no time to answer to that, because Melissa drew me into a bear hug while I still marvelled about the changes in Davis – no, Tracey.

'Harry! I'm so happy for you and Daphne,' she beamed when she finally released me. 'I'd hoped for this to happen ever since I met you in San Francisco, and saw the way you took care of my little cousin.'

I raised my eyebrows at that. 'The contracts you sent to Daphne suggested otherwise, Melissa.' As much as I tried, I couldn't keep the irritation I still felt because of her meddling out of my voice.

She had the grace to blush. 'Well, I know how stubborn Daphne is, and wanted to give her a nudge in the right direction,' she admitted.

'You chose a rather odd way for that,' I told her, shaking my head. 'Did it never occur to you that your meddling would have quite the opposite effect on Daphne, just because she can be a trifle stubborn sometimes? She forbade me to propose for I don't know how many weeks, because she didn't want it to look as if she accepted out of pressure.'

'Oh!' Melissa's mouth went round, and she opened her eyes wide. Then she gave me a regretful look. 'Sorry, Harry. That never occurred to me.'

'I told you that pressuring Daphne was the wrong way, darling,' her husband told her, and put an arm around her shoulders. He offered me his hand. 'My congratulations, Harry. I'm happy for both of you, and relieved you followed my advice.'

'Thank you, Matthew,' I replied, shaking his hand. 'Though your advice wasn't necessary. I had already collected Daphne's first rejection when I received your letter.'

He looked as contrite as his wife at my words, I noticed with no small degree of satisfaction.

Matt saved the awkward moment. 'Can we go back home? I'm hungry!'

Melissa sighed, and tousled his hair. 'And what's new about that, mister? I swear, the first time I saw you, fresh out of my womb, you were screaming that I should feed you, and that hasn't changed over the years.'

Everyone laughed about that, much to Matt's embarrassment. We loaded our luggage onto a trolley, and went out to the parking lot in front of the building. The spring day was overcast, but thankfully it didn't rain at the moment, though puddles of water and the wet pavement in front of the building indicated that it had rained not so long ago.

Matthew and Melissa walked ahead, with Matt, Tracey, Nott, Daphne and I following them in some distance.

'Ugh, did I tell you that I hate the British climate?' Daphne said, with a disgruntled look at the grey sky, and huddled against me.

I laughed, and put my arm around her to give her more shelter from the unpleasant wind. 'Yeah, you're a typical snake in that regard. Happy and active in the warm sunshine, but grumpy at the sight of the first drop of rain, and downright unbearable as soon as the temperature drops below twenty degrees.'

Matt, Tracey and Nott laughed about that, while my wife elbowed me in the side for my cheek.

'You should've seen her in the Slytherin dorms during winter, Harry,' Tracey said. 'She always wore several layers of clothes under her robes, and looked like a walking scarecrow.'

'Impossible,' I said, and smiled down at Daphne. 'Though, I can't blame her. If the dorms are anything like the Slytherin common room, they must be a rather cold and unwelcoming place.'

Daphne gave me a kiss on my cheek in return. 'Thank you, Harry.'

Tracey's eyebrows rose up until they were almost hidden behind her brown curls. 'How do you know how the Slytherin common room looks, Harry?'

'Oh, I went there in my second year to investigate if Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin,' I replied coolly.

Tracey and Nott stopped dead in their tracks. 'You did what?!'

Matt gave me a look full of respect. 'Wicked! How did you get in, Harry?'

I knew Melissa wouldn't thank me for giving him ideas, but I told him. 'I took some Polyjuice Potion, and went into the common room in the disguise of one of Malfoy's friends.'

Tracey and Nott gave me a doubtful look. 'How did you get your hands on Polyjuice Potion, Potter?' Nott asked.

'Hermione brewed it in the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle,' I told him.

He gasped. 'In our second year?'

'Yeah; she's brilliant, isn't she?'

His eyes went wide, and he shook his head, but didn't press the matter anymore.

Beside me, Daphne chuckled quietly. Of course by now she knew about my exploits at Hogwarts, and had had a good laugh when I told her about our Polyjuice adventure in the Slytherin common room. 'I think you broke him, love,' she whispered to me with a broad grin on her face.

We had walked alongside the building while we talked, and now reached a huge parking lot next to the building. Instead of turning to a quiet corner and Apparating or Portkeying us away from there, Matthew led us to a VW T4 that stood in the middle of the parking lot.

'That's dad's newest toy,' Tracey informed us, while Matthew opened the door at the rear of the vehicle to store our luggage.

'We live in a Muggle area,' Matthew informed us as we climbed into the car. 'My mother was a Muggleborn, and I used to visit my maternal grandparents often when I was small. My grandfather used to go fishing with me, and I stuck with the hobby after he passed on. I'm a member of a Muggle fishing club in our area. It would look weird if I show up to our fishing appointments out of thin air, and would pull my shrunken equipment out of the pockets of my trousers, so I bought this car. But of course, it has some improvements.' He grinned, and pressed a button on the dashboard.

The two rows of seats in the back of the car transformed into comfortable sofas under our behinds. The middle row, where Daphne and I were sitting, made a 180 degree turn, until it faced the back row sofa, on which Tracey, Nott and Matt sat. A low coffee table appeared between the two sofas.

'Nice feature,' Nott grinned, and put an arm around Tracey's shoulder, not heeding the grimace Matt gave him.

'Yeah, I like it,' my wife laughed, and snuggled up to me.

Matt made a gagging noise, and we laughed at him.

I heard how Melissa opened the glove compartment in front of her. One look over my shoulder told me that it concealed a veritable refrigerator. She pulled a picnic hamper out of the fridge and handed it to me.

'There! That should last Matt until we're home.'

With a cry of joy Matt dug into the picnic hamper, while his father threaded his way through the tight traffic of Southampton. I noticed that, no matter how many cars were ahead of us, we inevitably ended at the top of each line waiting in front of the traffic lights, and concluded that Matthew must have equipped his car with the same feature the Ministry cars boasted. I began to wonder if it was possible to improve every Muggle car with these features.

Nott's thoughts obviously went along the same lines. 'I never would've thought that travelling with a Muggle car is this comfortable and fast,' he remarked, opening a bottle of butterbeer. We had just reached the outskirts of Southampton, and Matthew was about to enter the M3.

'Yeah,' I agreed, accepting the bottle he offered me. 'I wonder if it's possible to do something like that with every Muggle car. I always wanted a car, but I'm not fond of standing in traffic jams.'

'It is,' Matthew told me over his shoulder. 'If you want to buy a Muggle car, Harry and Theo, I'll help you to make the changes.'

'Thank you, sir, that's very generous of you,' Nott said, and I echoed his thanks.

I shared a look with Daphne. 'What do you think, love?'

She gave me an amused smile. 'I'd rather join you in a ride in a sports car than in a ride on a racing broom, so I say go for it.'

Tracey raised an eyebrow. 'You never seemed like the sports car type to me, Harry.'

Daphne snorted at that. 'You don't know him, Tracey. This one's an adrenaline junkie, if I've ever met one. Higher, faster – you get the picture. He even went diving with sharks a couple of weeks ago.'

'You're taking the mickey, Daphne. No one's that idiotic,' Tracey replied with a snort.

'She's not,' I confirmed Daphne's words.

Tracey paled, while Nott gave me an impressed glance.

'Wicked!' Matt breathed. The hero worship in his eyes became even more pronounced. Melissa would want to have my hide for that one day, I was sure.

'Wasn't that extremely dangerous?' Melissa asked, turning around, and giving me a concerned look.

'Not at all,' I placated her. 'I was in a strong iron cage, and the beasts could never get at me.'

'All the same,' Melissa replied, still sounding concerned. 'I wish you wouldn't do such dangerous things, now that you're about to start a family.'

Daphne and I shared a look. Daphne smirked at me. 'I went with him on that excursion, Melissa,' she said sweetly.

Melissa let out a cry of dismay, while Tracey and Nott grinned broadly at us.

'You really know how to get back at mum,' Tracey whispered. 'Did you really enter that cage?'

Daphne shook her head, while I mouthed at Tracey, 'She stayed on board. Daphne's terrified of sharks.'

'Smart girl,' Nott grinned. 'What else did you do while you were on that cruise around the world?'

For the rest of the drive, we regaled them with our adventures. Tracey and Matt perked up as we told them about our surfing trip on Hawaii.

'I always wanted to go surfing as we lived in California,' Matt exclaimed, and his sister nodded to that.

'Me, too,' she admitted. 'Unfortunately, it never came to that. The money dad, mum and I managed to make with odd jobs while we hid in the Muggle world was barely enough to pay for the necessities. We didn't dare to go into the magical world, and had no access to our savings.'

I startled at her words. It never had occurred to me that the unpleasant demeanour she had shown in San Francisco might be due to constant sorrows about how to make a living for the family.

Nott confirmed my thoughts. He pulled his fiancé closer to him and dropped a kiss on her head. 'At least you don't have to worry about that anymore, love.'

'Maybe we all can go surfing one day,' Daphne suggested. 'I've been told there are some good surf spots in Cornwall.'

While Tracey and Matt agreed enthusiastically to that, Nott looked doubtful, yet intrigued.

'You look less than thrilled, Nott,' I observed under the cover of Matt's chatter.

He gave a helpless shrug. 'Don't get me wrong, Potter. It surely sounds like a lot of fun, but – I can't swim. Purebloods usually don't enter in Muggle activities. My father would've flagellated me, had I ever expressed a desire to exercise Muggle sports.' His face was calm, but the slight quiver in his voice betrayed a feeling of resentment, and his eyes didn't meet mine.

'I couldn't swim, either, when I started the cruise,' I told him. 'Daphne showed me how to do it. She loves every sport done in and on the water. Maybe she'll consent teaching you how to swim, too.'

Nott looked surprised at that revelation. Apparently, he didn't know that detail about his former house mate. I knew from Daphne that she had never shared many details about her life with her house mates.

'That'd be nice,' he answered. However, we couldn't continue our conversation. Matthew left the M25, and turned south toward Royal Tunbridge Wells.

'We'll be home in another ten minutes,' he announced.

I looked at my wristwatch: not even one hour had passed. Uncle Vernon often had had business in this area while I still had to live with my relatives. From his complaints I knew damned well that the drive from Southampton to Royal Tunbridge Wells took at least two hours, given there wasn't any traffic jam. Now I was really curious to learn how Matthew had modified his Muggle VW bus.

I was pulled out of my musings by my wife, who began to show me the landmarks of her home county. Daphne had told me that Grenian House, the ancestral home of the Greengrass family, was near Royal Tunbridge Wells in Kent. I was still amazed that she grew up not even an hour away from me by car. Traditionally, the other family members settled down around Grenian House. The Davis' were no exception to that: Melissa and Matthew had bought a house in Royal Tunbridge Wells after they had returned from the States.

Not even ten minutes later, as he had promised, Matthew pulled the VW bus to a stop in front of a narrow-breasted Victorian terraced house on York Street that was painted in a cheerful vanilla yellow, with white shutters.

We all filed out of the car, happy to stretch our legs. The weather had brightened; odd rays of sunshine made their way through the clouds that weren't as dense anymore as they had been in Southampton. Melissa led us the few steps up to the front entrance. The house looked small from the outside, but that was deceiving. Each floor boasted two well lit, spacious rooms.

After we had refreshed ourselves, Melissa ushered us to the spacious dining room left of the entrance. A festive looking table was set in front of the ornate fireplace, and decked with Melissa's finest porcelain and silverware, glinting festively in a beam of sunshine that had found its way through the broad bow window that looked out on York Street. The delicious fragrance of a slow cooked roast permeated the air, and I realised that I was hungry.

Daphne and I had had a rather early breakfast that morning, "before even the birds are up", as my wife complained, and then made sure we had everything packed before we put our luggage in front of the entrance door of our suite, so that the crew could take it from board as soon as we arrived in Southampton. We had to leave our suite after that, and spent the time until the _Princess Isabella_ reached Southampton in the Atrium, together with the Meehans. Though we would have loved to watch the coast of England coming nearer, that experience was prevented by frequent showers of rain, and Daphne an Alvirah's outright refusal to go outside. We had reached Southampton around noon, and by now it was well after lunch time. No wonder my stomach made appreciative little flipflops when my brain registered the smell of roast.

Matthew opened a bottle of champagne and filled our glasses. 'Let's toast to the two young couples amidst us,' he said, raising his glass. 'May your life together be filled with happiness and love.'

'To happiness and love,' we echoed.

Melissa and Tracey then vanished into the kitchen that was on the ground floor, just as at my house on Grimmauld Place. They returned a few minutes later, conducting a line of plates and bowls filled with delicious looking – and smelling – food with their wands.

We enjoyed a wonderful meal. Melissa's cooking could give Mrs Weasley's a run for her money. I told her that, and she looked pleased, albeit she said, 'Tracey was a big help in all the preparations.'

'Lucky you,' Tracey told her fiancé without a hint of false modesty. 'In contrary to me, Daphne can't cook. Poor Harry is in for an unpleasant surprise if he ever lets her near a stove.'

Daphne wasn't fazed by that. 'Yeah, it's really fortunate that Harry is a master cook, considering that I'll even burn water. However, he offered to teach me. Maybe there's hope for me, after all.'

'Good luck with that,' Tracey chuckled, and took a sip of her wine. 'Did she tell you that I had to do all the cutting during our Potions classes? Daphne can't hold a knife without cutting herself.'

I joined the laughter that followed that remark. 'I know; she told me in Saigon when we booked that cookery course. Our teacher and I had to do most of the cooking, while Daphne afterwards did most of the eating.'

'Hey, I resent that!' my wife exclaimed, and gave me an idignant slap on the arm, but nevertheless joined the laughter at her expense.

Nott, however, raised an eyebrow at me. 'You can cook, Potter? Our house elves never let me near the kitchen. How did you learn to cook, then?'

'I didn't grow up in the magical world, but with my Muggle relatives,' I informed him over the lip of my wine glass. 'It's quite common for Muggle children to help with household chores.' There was no need to tell him I had been little more than a house elf to my relatives.

As if sensing my thoughts, Daphne put her hand on mine and gave me a small smile. I smiled back, thankful for her support. Though six months of therapy had helped me to leave the past behind me, I still struggled when the memories of my time with the Dursleys were sprung at me like this.

Nott looked taken aback. 'You grew up with Muggles?' he exclaimed. 'I had no idea, but of course that explains a lot.'

Tracey nodded to that.

Now it was my turn to look puzzled. 'Care to explain that cryptic remark, Nott?'

He gave me an apologetic look. 'Well, after your parents had been killed, Dumbledore took it upon himself to find a new home for you. You know his reputation, Potter, so you'll understand why nobody questioned his decision, or why the magical world just accepted his declaration that he'd brought you to a safe place.'

Daphne's nostrils flared at that, but she didn't interject.

'Well, of course no one ever would've thought that the Boy-Who-Lived grew up among Muggles. People just assumed that you'd been given to a magical family that lived very secluded, and sheltered you from the fame. People didn't take it kindly when you turned up in the magical world ten years later, and seemed to trample all over our traditions,' Nott went on.

'I had no idea. Nobody ever taught me a thing about magical traditions. Maybe I should've thought about that myself, but most of my schoolyears I was somehow distracted with just trying to stay alive,' I replied. 'At least Daphne has brought me up to par.'

'Yeah, and I can tell you, it wasn't easy,' my wife interjected, trying to light up the mood, and also trying to steer the conversation away from my upbringing. I gave her a small, thankful smile, and she winked at me. 'You won't believe how many times this lump stepped on my feet during the dance classes,' she told Nott and Tracey dramatically.

Nott gave me an amused look over the rim of his glass. 'You took dance classes, Potter?'

'Daphne forced me to,' I replied, mock-glaring at my wife, while I cut my meat.

That had everyone laugh, and of course they wanted to hear more about the tortures I had endured while Daphne tutored me in wizarding traditions.

After the excellent meal, Melissa invited us to have coffee in the parlour on the first floor. When we filed out of the dining room, Daphne stayed behind, and motioned to Nott to stay with her. Melissa and Matthew shared a wistful smile, while Tracey suddenly looked anxious.

I touched her arm and held her back. 'Don't worry, I think they'll come to an agreement.'

She didn't look convinced. 'I know that Daphne gave her agreement to our betrothal as my head of house, but I also know that I can't expect the customary dowry from her. After we returned from the USA, we heard how bad the war has been for the economy of the magical world. Dad got his job back, but he had to accept a much smaller pay because the tax revenue is so low, and the Ministry can't afford to pay the wages they paid before the war.' She bit her lip. 'Theo's also not as well off as the Notts used to be. His father squandered huge amounts of money to support that monster, and what was left was conviscated by the Ministry. Theo has to make due with what he inherited from his mother. It isn't much, and we both don't have our N.E.W.T.s, due to the war, so we can't get a good job. The Nott family business also is into shambles: nobody wants to deal with the son of a Death Eater. Poor Theo has to built up everything from scratch. We want to get married soon so badly, but I'm afraid we'll have to wait until we have the means to support ourselves.'

Daphne and I had discussed the problem of Tracey's dowry during our last days on board. Tracey was right; even though the business of Greengrass Shipping was slowly getting better, and Daphne had the income from her mother's trust, it didn't cover half of the dowry Tracey could rightfully expect as her share of the family fortune. I had told Daphne to offer Nott the customary dowry; I would cover for it. A thankful Nott who was indebted to Daphne made a good alley for the Neutral Faction. She hadn't been happy to have to accept money from me for her family, but in the end her practical Slytherin sense won, and she agreed, especially after I had pointed out that she would already be a Potter when the negotiations about the dowry took place, so technically _our_ money would be used to secure the future of _our_ family. She had given me a heart-melting smile when I told her that, and then kissed me until I almost forgot my name.

We sat down in the elegant parlour. It was directly above the dining room, and also boasted a bow window. Glass paned double doors led into an adjoining parlour.

Melissa served coffee, and we made small talk. Tracey, however, didn't join our conversation. She stepped to the bow window and looked down on the street, nervously wringing her hands. I couldn't blame her: if her and Nott's financial situation was as strained as she told me, their immediate future depended on the offer Daphne would make them. Not for the first time in my life I sent thankful thoughts to Grandfather Fleamont for providing that well for me. Thanks to him I had an independence only very few people on this planet could enjoy.

Of course, Melissa was curious to know if Daphne and I had already set a date for the wedding. Her question startled me out of my musings.

'You know that Daphne wants to get married at Grenian House in the summer,' I told her. 'I have no idea when Daphne will be able to rebuilt the house. She estimated a couple of years.'

Melissa's cup stopped midway between the saucer and her mouth. 'You can't be serious,' she exclaimed, and I had already my usual answer "No, I'm Harry!'" at the tip of my tongue, when the door opened, and Daphne and Nott entered the room. They both had a smile on their faces.

The triumphant gleam in my wife's eyes told me that Nott had agreed to all of her demands. I took her hand when she sat down beside me, and kissed her on the cheek in congratulation.

Nott walked over to the bow window and wrapped his arms around Tracey, whispering into her ear. Tracey's eyes went wide while she listened to him, and then a look of genuine happiness and thankfulness appeared on her face I would never have expected to see. She threw her arms around Nott and kissed him deeply. Then she whirled around and ran to Daphne. Laughing and crying, she hugged my wife.

Daphne patted her back. 'Shh, it's alright, Tracey!' I could see how touched she was by Tracey's emotions.

However, it took some time until Tracey regained her composure. She walked back to Nott, who still stood beside the bow window and had watched her all the time with the expression of a love-sick puppy. I was familiar with that expression: I had worn it on my wedding day, and probably still wore it each time I looked at Daphne. She took his hand. 'Now we can think of getting married and both finishing our education together,' she smiled at him. 'Before your generous offer, Daphne, it would've been Theo's turn first, while I earned the money, and then mine.'

My wife gave me a small push. Reacting to my cue, I cleared my throat. 'Actually, that's something Daphne and I also still have to do,' I told them. 'We thought of hiring private tutors. I already wrote to Headmistress McGonagall for recommendations, and she agreed to talk to us after the Memorial Service. You're welcomed to join us in our studies.'

Tracey and Nott looked at each other, then beamed at us. 'Thank you, that's very generous of you.'

Their thankfulness made me uncomfortable. 'Well, the more, the merrier,' I replied, while I slowly turned red.

Daphne put her hand on my arm and grinned. 'What Harry means is, if you're studying with us, I won't focus solely on him and nag him all the time to do better.'

Of course, that caused a lot of laughter at my expense.

We talked some more, until Daphne said, 'I think it's time that Harry and I head home.'

Melissa gave an uneasy look to her husband, while Tracey and Nott both grinned, obviously enjoying that Daphne had challenged her yet another time.

'We've prepared the guest bedroom for you, dear,' Melissa told my wife.

Daphne gave her a mischievous glance. 'That's very friendly of you, Melissa, but I think I prefer to stay with my husband.'

'Your… what?!' Melissa stared at us, her mouth hanging open. I never would have thought a Pureblood witch - and a Slytherin on top of that - would lose her composure that completely.

Daphne took my hand, and smiled at her sweetly. 'Harry and I got married on board yesterday.'

She still stared at us for almost another half minute. Then she jumped up, whooping with joy, and pulled Daphne into a hug that almost crushed her. 'That's wonderful, Daphne; I'm so happy for you.' She released my wife, only to turn around to me, and crush me in an equally fierce hug.

The rest of her family and Nott followed suit with their congratulations, and Matthew brought out the champagne once more.

Melissa laughed at Daphne over the rim of her glass. 'You did this on purpose, didn't you?' She gestured towards our rings. We had cancelled the Concealment Charms as soon as Daphne had dropped the bomb.

'Of course,' Daphne laughed. 'We thought some payback was in order after the way you pestered us ever since that article came out.'

Melissa had the grace to blush, while the rest of her family laughed.

It was rather late when we finally made our goodbyes, and not before Melissa, Daphne and Tracey went through the most important details for the two upcoming weddings they had to plan. Nott and I shared a look, and all of a sudden I felt a solidarity towards the Slytherin I wouldn't have thought possible only a year ago. Matthew, catching our glances, chuckled quietly.

 **HP -DG**

I Apparated Daphne and me to the small garden in the middle of Grimmauld Square, our shrunken luggage in my pocket.

'Harry Potter lives at Grimauld Place number twelve,' I told her.

She looked puzzled. 'You already told me you live in London, so why...' she began, then interrupted herself. 'Did your house just appear between number eleven and number thirteen, or had I one drink too many?'

I laughed, and took her hand to lead her to the entrance. 'There's nothing wrong with your eyes, love. The house is unplottable and under a Fidelius Charm. I'm the secret keeper. You wouldn't have found it before I told you the secret, even if you'd been standing right in front of it.'

With Professor Flitwick's help, I had taken down the old Fidelius Charm. After Dumbledore's death each member of the Order who had been told the location of the house had become secret keeper, plus the twins, Ron, Hermione and me. We had inadvertedly added to that circle of people when we took Yaxley into the sphere of the charm. The Death Eaters had taken advantage of that: there hadn't been one piece of furniture left intact when Kreacher and I returned to the house after I had left the Burrow, not to mention that everything that was halfway valuable was missing from the house. I wasn't too fond of an open house, so I put up a new Fidelius Charm, with myself as the secret keeper.

Daphne gave me an appraising side glance as we walked across the square. 'Is it still necessary for you to stay hidden?'

I shrugged. 'I'm probably slightly paranoid, but fact is, there are still a number of Death Eaters on the run who'd like to kill me for finishing off their Dark Wanker. I can sleep better that way at night.'

She didn't comment on that, but a slight frown had appeared on her face.

We had reached the entrance, and the door opened wide when I tapped my wand against it. Daphne let out a small shriek when I picked her up and carried her over the threshold.

'Welcome to your new home, Mrs Potter.'

'You're such a sap,' she informed me, but nevertheless put her arms around my neck, and kissed me until my toes curled.

A resounding CRACK brought us back to the real world. The next moment, a small missile, clad in a pristine tea towel, hurled itself at me and hugged me around my knees.

'Master is back! Kreacher is so happy!' my ancient house elf croaked in his bullfrog voice.

I lowered Daphne back to the ground, mindful not to hurt Kreacher, who still was pressed against my knees as close as possible.

'Thank you, Kreacher, I'm also happy to see you,' I told him, and patted his head. 'I want you to meet someone.'

Kreacher raised his head and looked at me. I motioned with my hand at Daphne. 'Kreacher, this is my wife, Daphne.'

A glow of sheer happiness appeared on Kreacher's ugly face. 'Kreacher has a mistress again!' he croaked, and then hurled himself at Daphne.

Thankfully, Daphne had grown up with house elves, and was used to the overexited little creatures. 'I'm also happy to meet you, Kreacher,' she said. 'Harry told me so much about you.'

Kreacher looked up at her with a look of purest adoration that made me stiffle a laugh. 'Mistress bes too good to a lowly house elf! What can Kreacher do for mistress? Does mistress want dinner, or does mistress want tea, or…'

'Tea would be wonderful,' Daphne smiled at him, and patted him once more. 'We'll have a light dinner after Harry has shown me around.'

'Tea will be ready in a second,' Kreacher promised.

'We'll come down into the kitchen as soon as I've introduced Daphne to Grandpa Fleamont,' I informed him.

The next moment, Kreacher was gone.

I grabbed Daphne's hand and led her farther into the house. She looked around appreciatively.

'This is the old Black residence, isn't it? I've heard stories during my childhood how horrible dark it was; even the most bigotted Purebloods from my parent's circles weren't as obsessed as Walburga Black and her husband, and made fun of their obsession with everything Slytherin. I expected a much darker place, but nothing this cheerful and bright. You must have strapped the house of everything, down to the bare walls, and then started from scratch.'

'Almost,' I agreed. 'The Death Eaters have paid a visit to the house during the war. They knew it was my hideaway, so they destroyed everything they found, or stole it. Kreacher and I swept out the rubble when we returned after the war. Since we already were at it, we thought we as well could do it right, and removed everything down to the bare stones.'

Kreacher and I had done a thoroughly job with the renovation. The old, dingy hall was hardly recognisable to anyone who had visited the house during the days of the war. We had pulled down the dark wallpaper, and replaced it with a warm, honey coloured one, and added white accents where the walls joined the ceiling. The brass scones and door handles in forms of snakes had been transfigured by Kreacher and me into puristic and modern looking ones, made of brushed brass, after a picture I had found in a magazine about interior decor. We had installed a skylight into the rooftop that provided the staircase and the hallways of the house with natural light. Last but not least, the painting of Walburga Black was gone. I had spent a whole day chiseling out the wall her painting was magically glued to the Muggle way, ever so often renewing the strong Silencing Charm I had to put on her to prevent her screams from deafening me, but it had been worth it.

The place of honour was now taken up by the magical painting of my grandfather Fleamont Potter, the one I had found in my family vault on my eighteenth birthday, when I had learned about my inheritance. From his place at the wall to the library he had a look at the wall above the staircase. Kreacher and I had buried the heads of the former Black house elves in a secluded spot of the back yard, and then decorated the wall at Grandfather Fleamont's request - or rather demand - with his collection of contemporary Muggle art paintings that had been stowed away in the family vault. Contemporary to his time, that is. Grandfather's pride was a painting of Picasso that Kreacher and I had put on the wall directly opposite of his magical painting, so that he could look at it as often as he wanted.

'Well, lad, it's good to see you back,' Grandfather Fleamont smiled as Daphne and I walked up to him hand in hand. 'Won't you introduce me to the lovely lady beside you?'

I was happy to oblige. 'Daphne, meet my grandfather, Fleamont Potter. Grandpa, this is my wife Daphne Potter, nee Greengrass.'

Grandpa Fleamont roared with laughter. 'So, you went out for a world cruise to get rid of your boredom, and return with a wife barely four months later? You're such a Gryffindor!' He gave my wife an appreciative look. 'Welcome to the family, my dear. So, you're a Greengrass? There was an Albion Greengrass a few years below me during my time at Hogwarts. He played as beater on the Slytherin team since my sixth year, but he surely wasn't as beautiful as you are.'

I should have known that the old ladykiller couldn't resist to flirt with my wife.

'That would've been my grandfather,' Daphne replied. 'It's nice to meet you, too, sir.'

We had a little chat with Grandpa Fleamont, who of course was curious to hear how we had met, and why we got married after only a few months into knowing each other. With the hint that it was getting late, and the promise to have a long chat with him one of these days, I managed to extricate Daphne and me from him.

'It's uncanny how much you Potter men look alike,' Daphne said as we walked down the stairs to the kitchen. 'I've seen pictures of your father; you have all three the same black and untameable hair, and glasses. Only the colour of your eyes is differently. Your grandfather had brown eyes, your father's were hazel, and yours are green. Other than that, it's hard to tell you apart.'

'However, if you ask Grandfather Fleamont, he'd tell you he's the best looking of us,' I replied as I opened the door to the kitchen for her.

Daphne laughed at that, and entered the kitchen. She stopped to have a look around. 'I like this room.'

Kreacher and I had replaced the floor in the kitchen with a gleaming, honey-coloured hardwood floor, and had painted the walls in a warm vanilla. I had ordered a gas-operated, fire-engine red AGA stove for the kitchen, and sturdy cabinets in a creamy white colour. Kreacher had gone to Diagon Alley and bought an array of copper cauldrons, pots and pans, and other kitchen utensils he arranged below the cabinets and above the stove. The window sill now housed Kreacher's lovingly cared for small jungle of kitchen herbs in stoneware pots. A long, white scrubbed table, and an assortment of mismatching chairs, all painted a creamy white and decorated with colourful cushions, made the kitchen an amazingly warm and cheerful room.

'Well, as with the rest of the house, there also wasn't much left of the old kitchen after the the Death Eaters paid their visit,' I told her. 'The kitchen has been reduced to a heap of firewood by them, and shards of glass and porcellain, with the odd dented or even molten pot or pan thrown in. Kreacher and I started our renovating job with Vanishing everything that was in the room, which included the chipped tiled floor, and the wooden panels at the back of the room. You can't imagine my amazement when I found a double door to a forgotten family room hidden behind them.'

I took her by the hand and led her to the glass paned double door that connected the kitchen with the family room.

'It was filled up to the rafters with the most charming furniture from the Georgian area,' I went on as I opened the door. 'Good luck had it that nothing was cursed, so Kreacher and I restored the furniture and used it for the kitchen and the family room.'

The family room was painted in the same warm vanilla colour as the kitchen, and the ornate stucco of the fireplace that dominated the room was painted a creamy white. I had found an oriental carpet in my family vault that fitted in nicely. I then had splurged on a huge, burgundy red leather sofa with a matching glass coffee table I placed in front of the fireplace. Kreacher replaced the upholstery of the window seat to match the sofa, while I spurned curtains in favour of the light from the garden streaming into the room. Lots of cushions and blankets, and a pair of the discarded Georgian overstuffed chairs, and end tables, lovingly restaurated by Kreacher and then decorated with lamps and photos of my parents and grandparents in silver frames - all taken from the Potter Family Vault - made the room a cosy haven for relaxing evenings in front of a merrily crackling fire.

I led Daphne to the bow window at the end of the room. From there, a door led onto a small, sunken patio at the back of the house. It was furnished with a table and a couple of chairs, and I had put up a Muggle barbecue grill there. Kreacher had cooked our meals there while we waited for the kitchen stove being delivered. I pointed to the unkempt backyard that stretched out for another thirty yards behind the patio.

'You said you love gardening, don't you? Well, I haven't yet come around to put the garden back to order. What do you think of making that our project for the summer?'

Daphne squealed with delight, and hugged me.

We then settled down on the sofa. I let my wand slip out of my holster and lit the fire in the fireplace with a silent charm. We had barely sat down when Kreacher bustled over and served us tea and small cakes.

'It's wonderful, Kreacher, just the way I like it,' Daphne told the expectantly waiting elf after her first sip.

Kreacher's ugly face beamed like the sun. 'Mistress bes so good to poor Kreacher,' he mumbled rather watery, and returned to the kitchen.

Daphne snuggled up to me while we sipped our tea. 'It feels somehow strange to be back in England. Just imagine, tomorrow we'll still be in the same place, instead of entering a new port.'

We both chuckled at that. To be honest, during the last week we both had become slightly travel-weary. There was so much going on in our lives, so many unresolved problems waiting for us to tackle them, that we both were secretly relieved when the end of the cruise got nearer.

'You'll feel as if you're back for ages within a week, considering everything we'll have on our agenda during the next days,' I told her.

She made a face at that. 'You're probably right. What do you think, can we squeeze in a visit at Gringotts? Theo at once agreed to all of my demands. In return, he only asked that he and Tracey can marry as soon as possible. Obviously, they aren't planning on a big wedding, just the immediate family, and you and me. Theo's parents are both dead, and just like me he has no uncles or aunts. I promised him to talk with the goblins about the necessary arrangements this week.'

That suited me just fine. My goblin advisors had more or less ordered me to a visit at Gringotts the upcoming week, but I had planned on that, anyway. Daphne needed to be included into the Potter vaults, and we also needed to talk to the goblins about proper wards for Grenian House.

'What about Wednesday, after the awards ceremony?' I asked back.

'Sounds fine to me,' Daphne agreed, stiffling a yawn. 'Gosh, I'm knackered. Will you show me the rest of the house before I fall asleep in front of the fire?'

I snorted, but got to my feet and hauled her up.

'The layout of the house is the common layout for a terraced house,' I told her as we climbed up the stairs back to the ground floor. 'A long hallway, and two or three rooms on each floor. Kitchen and family room are on the lower ground floor. Below that is a cellar. At the moment, it's a huge, unused space. The boiler room is down there, and Kreacher has his bedroom next to it, since he refused to sleep in one of the bedrooms of the house I offered to him.'

'You don't know much about house elves, do you, love? They need dark, confined spaces to feel safe at night. They'd be terrified in a normal bedroom,' my wife taught me.

'Thanks for the lecture in Magical Creatures,' I grinned, and then went on with my tour of the house. 'The library and the dining room are supposed to be on the ground floor, with two reception rooms on the first floor.'

Daphne arched her delicate brows at that. 'Supposed to?'

I scratched my neck. 'Well, as I told you, we had that little problem with the Death Eater visit. Kreacher and I simply Vanished the rubble in each room, put in new floors and wallpaper, and left it at that. So far, only the kitchen, the family room and my bedroom are fully furnished. But see for yourself.' I pulled open the door to the former library, and guided her inside the room.

'Indeed, the room is a trifle sparsely decorated,' Daphne deadpanned.

There was nothing left of the unique Black collection of books about the dark arts. The Death Eaters had shred them to confetti, and I hadn't bothered to restore them. Hermione probably would have my head for that, had she known. Kreacher and I had put a dark coloured hardwood floor into the room, and a bright yellow wallpaper on the walls, that both emphasised the fireplace made of green marble. The huge bow window looked on the square, and let in a lot of light after Kreacher finally had removed the grime of decades.

I put my arm around Daphne's shoulders. 'I hope you like house decorating, love. I'm pants at it.'

She grinned at me, an excited gleam in her eyes. 'I'd say you did a very good job with the kitchen and the family room, Harry. But I'm happy that there's still some work left to do for me. That will make it my house, too, instead of simply moving in your house.'

'Be careful what you wish for, love,' I quipped, and kissed her. She understood what I meant when I showed her the bare dining room, and then the two reception rooms on the first floor that were as bare.

The former Tapestry Room on the first floor had also undergone a complete change. Just like with Ol' Wally's portrait, I had had to remove the tapestry with Muggle means. Kreacher and I had then connected the Tapestry Room and the adjoining parlour with a pair of double doors. The effort had been worth it. The double doors joined two pleasantly sized, light flooded reception rooms, that both boasted an ornate fireplace. There was also a small room on this floor I used as a study. It was furnished with just the essentials: a desk, a chair and a shelf where I kept ink and parchment.

Daphne scrunched her nose quite adorably. 'Indeed, there's room for improvement here.'

I pulled her with me to the next floor. 'At least our bedroom is fully furnished. You won't have to do anything there.'

But when I opened the door to the master bedroom, Daphne stopped right in her tracks. 'You're joking, Harry, aren't you?'

I had no idea what she was talking about. I had spend a long time and a lot of money on decorating the master bedroom. The huge fourposter bed in the middle of the room looked just as my bed in the Gryffindor dorms. The curtains on the huge windows that overlooked Grimmauld Place matched the scarlett bedcurtains and the scarlet and gold stripped wallpaper. Armchairs that reminded me of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room made a small seating area in front of the window. The floor was covered with a fluffy carpet in a soft gold, with a couple of red patterned rugs scattered about it. I had no wardrobe; there was a huge walk-in closet next to the ensuite bathroom.

My confusion must have shown on my face, because my wife smiled at me with a small shake of her head. 'The room is decorated in Gryffindor colours, love.'

'Oh!' I paused. 'You don't like them, do you?'

She shook her head. 'No, I don't. They're so - brassy. While I like bright colours, the combination of scarlett and gold is a little too much.'

'Well, you won't see much of them when you're asleep,' I tried. 'And we'll probably can think of something to distract you from the colours when we're in here.'

As I had expected, that earned me a soft slap on my arm for my cheek. 'Prat,' she said, and I grinned.

Daphne continued looking at the room with a slight frown. 'We won't have to change everything. For example, we can keep the red and gold colour scheme, but mute it down somehow, so that the colours aren't that shrill,' she mused. She looked up at me, a hopeful and pleading expression on her face. 'What do you think, love?'

Of course, she knew that I could never resist that look. 'Alright,' I agreed, and was rewarded with a blinding smile, and a hug and a kiss that made me think I would happily give in to all her wishes if it got me kisses like this one.

We continued our sightseeing tour through the house. There was an additional bedroom on this floor, but it was completely bare, down to the stone walls. The three bedrooms on the third floor were the same. I also hadn't changed the old bathroom up there, and Daphne grimaced at the grimy looking tiles, and the reptilian feet of the bathtub. The fourth floor had two additional bedrooms, and a shared bathroom. The twins and Remus had stayed up here when the house was used by the Order of the Phoenix, I remembered.

However, the fourth floor contained another surprise of the house that had been hidden away by Ol' Wally and her abysmal taste of interior decoration. The second bedroom and the hallway opened onto a small, walled in patio. Beyond the patio was a conservatory that covered the width of the house and looked over the garden, though we couldn't see much of that since dusk was falling rapidly. A narrow, winding iron stair led from the patio to a rooftop terrace atop of the bedrooms.

Daphne let out a small squeal of delight when I showed the conservatory to her.

'It was completely boarded up when Kreacher and I came up here,' I told her. 'Apparently, Walburga Black didn't like to sit in a conservatory on sunny, yet cold days. We repaired the broken window panes, but other than that we haven't done much up here.'

My wife looked around. 'This is a wonderful place to relax. The bedroom that opens onto the patio would make a nice shared study for us. We could put potted plants into the patio and the conservatory, and furnish the conservatory with a table and chairs. We can have our tea there whenever it's too cold to sit outside. What do you think?'

I wrapped my arms around her, and dropped a kiss on her head. 'That sounds lovely.'

Daphne returned my hug, but it was clear to me that she was distracted, obviously already planning the decoration of our joined study, the patio and the conservatory in detail in her head. I had to admit I was looking forward to see Daphne's touch on the house. There was no doubt that it would be a great improvement to the way the house looked under Walburga Black's care.

We were pulled out of our musings by Kreacher, who apparated right beside us.

'Dinner is ready, mistress!' he announced with an adoring look at Daphne.

'Thank you, Kreacher. We'll be down in a minute.'

'Yes, misstress,' Kreacher replied happily, and apparated away.

Daphne and I exchanged an amused smile. 'You've made a conquest there,' I informed her. 'It took years until he accepted me.'

My wife flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave me a mock-haughty look. 'Well, love, you don't have my dazzling beauty, and my sophisticated demeanour.'

'Yeah, right,' I deadpanned. 'Not to mention your modesty.' Of course, that earned me a slap on the arm, and we broke out into laughter.

We were still laughing when we entered the kitchen and sat down for the delicious meal Kreacher had prepared for us. However, our mood changed during dinner. We both became silent and pensive when our thoughts turned to the day ahead of us.

'I'm afraid of tomorrow,' my wife admitted, her finger circling the rim of her glass. 'I don't know if I can hold it together when Mum and Dad's names are read out.'

I reached across the table and covered her free hand with mine. 'You're not alone there, love. I'm with you all the time. Besides that, everyone who's attending the Memorial Service will be troubled. We've all lost people we love in the wars.'

She nodded at that, but it didn't seem to help with her inner turmoil, and she kept being silent and withdrawn for the rest of the day.

t.b.c.


	9. Memorial Week - Sunday, May 2nd 1999

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's notes:**

This one was finished sooner than I thought, so I decided to post it right away. The next installment is scheduled for 12-08-17, if RL leaves me time enough for writing.

Many thanks to Xavras for editing this chapter, even though he had had a day from hell and was in pains on top of it. You rock!

As always, any errors that remain are mine.

 **DG - HP**

 **Part II**

 **Memorial Week**

 **Sunday, May 2nd 1999**

With the emotional turmoil of the Memorial Service looming over us, neither Daphne nor I slept well on our first night back in England. We woke up at dawn, both feeling unrested and on pins and needles, so we decided to take a long run through a nearby park.

Today, one year had passed since I took Voldemort's Killing Curse in the Forbidden Forest and survived against all odds, I thought as we circled the small pond in the middle of the park. However, I didn't feel like celebrating my second birthday, but instead thought of everyone close to me I had lost because of that monster - my parents, Sirius, Remus, Fred, and not to forget Hedwig. I was probably an idiot to mourn a familiar, but I still missed her dearly.

When we turned up in the kitchen almost two hours later, Kreacher waited for us with a lovingly prepared breakfast. Neither of us was able to do it justice, and so we just sipped our tea, and nibbled on a piece of toast, though mine tasted like cardboard to me. It was almost a relief when it was finally time to get ready for the Memorial Service.

For the first time in months Daphne and I dressed in formal robes. It was a strange feeling to be wrapped from head to toe into masses of rich, flowing fabric. Daphne almost looked like a stranger in the high-necked, dark blue, traditional dress robes of Acrumantula silk she had chosen. They had no embellishments, and with her hair pulled back in a plain, tight bun at the nape of her head she looked like a nun.

'You look strange,' she told me, eying my charcoal grey robes. 'I'm not used to you wearing robes anymore.'

'Funny, I just thought the same about you, love,' I replied, and took her by the arm to lead her downstairs.

As we stepped out of the house, I silently cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm on us, so that our Muggle neighbours wouldn't be tempted to call the police at the sight of a strange young couple in weird clothes. The area around Grimmauld Place had changed a lot since I first came here in the summer before my fifth year, almost four years ago. Most of the houses had been sold to young, high-earning professionals, and the houses as well as the place had undergone a massive transformation. What once had been a rather dingy and unsavory area of London was now a sought-after residential quarter, with well maintained houses and clean streets, and expensive German cars parked in front of the houses, but thankfully with nothing of the uniformity of Privet Drive.

We hid behind a bush in the nowadays well-kept garden of the square, and I Apparated us to the front gates of Hogwarts. We weren't the first to arrive. Ahead of us a stream of dark clad wizards and witches walked down to the Black Lake. Behind us we could hear the sounds of more Apparitions.

Hagrid stood at the gates, dressed in his hairy, brown suit. He beamed all over his rugged face when he saw me.

''arry, good to see yer,' he boomed, and the next moment I disappeared between his arms that caught me in a rib-cracking hug. He let go of me and gave me a long look, holding me at arm's length. 'Yer lookin' good, 'arry. Better than I've ever seen yer.'

'It's also good to see you, Hagrid,' I replied, as soon as I could breathe again. I turned around and grabbed Daphne's hand. 'You've got to thank Daphne for that. Daphne, may I present you Hagrid, my first friend in the wizarding world? Hagrid, this is my wife, Daphne Potter.'

Hagrid's eyes got wide. 'Now, that's a serprise,' he exclaimed. Before Daphne knew what happened to her, she was on the receiving end of a hug from Hagrid. 'My congratulations to both of ye,' he smiled.

Daphne emerged from Hagrid's hug with a flushed face, and slightly ruffled. A few strands of her hair had loosened from her tight bun, and now framed her face in the most charming way, but she gave Hagrid a genuine and warm smile. 'Thank you for your well wishes, Professor Hagrid.'

Hagrid clapped me on the back. 'You'd better get goin'. The service's about to start in a couple o' minutes.'

We joined the stream of wizards and witches again and walked down to the Black Lake. After the two articles about us in the _Daily Prophet_ it was probably inevitable that we got a lot of curious glances from the people around us. We did our best to ignore them, and thankfully no one accosted us: they were all consumed with their own memories of the two wars and the loved ones they had lost.

The Memorial Service took place in front of Dumbledore's grave. Row after row of white chairs had been put up in a half-circle in front of his memorial. On each side of the memorial now stood a white marble wall. Hundreds of names were engraved into the marble in shiny, golden letters that glinted in the sunshine: the names of each victim of the war, no matter whether human, goblin or elf. The latter two had caused an uproar in the Ministry when he proposed it, Kingsley had written to me, but in the end he got through with it.

As one year ago, it was a beautiful spring day. The sun shone down from a periwinkle sky, and yellow and white flowers dotted the lush, green lawn around the castle. The Giant Squid luxuriated in the sunshine on the surface of the Black Lake, and birds chirped loudly in the fresh green of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. It was a day full of life when we honoured the victims of an abomination that tried to escape death at all costs. If you ask me, fate has a strange sense of humour.

The rows of chairs were already filled to at least three quarters when we arrived. I could see Headmistress McGonagall and Kingsley in the front row. The other professors and a few Aurors sat with them. Behind them came a black sea of Hogwarts students. Left of the students was a red patch in the masses of dark robes: the Weasley clan in full force, plus Fleur. To my amazement, I saw Angelina Jones sitting next to George and holding his hand, but there was no sign of Hermione next to Ron, and she wasn't sitting with Ginny, either.

I exchanged nods with Dennis Creevey, who supported his crying mother, and Oliver Wood, who sat next to them. Then I guided Daphne to one of the rows in the back, and we sat down.

'Do you mind if we sit next to you?'

I looked up. Hermione stood in front of me, and Neville behind her. Considering how we had parted the night the _Princess Isabella_ left Colombo, the uneasy expression on her face was not surprising. However, the fact that she wasn't sitting with the Weasleys told me that my parting words that night obviously got through to her. It wouldn't hurt to show her some good will in return, so I nodded.

She sat down next to me. Neville gave Daphne and me a polite nod, and then took a seat beside Hermione.

Long years of friendship with Hermione told me that she was dying to talk to me. She shifted in her seat, and threw frequent glances at me from under her eyelashes. Once or twice she opened her mouth, but each time thought the better of it. She didn't calm down before Neville put his hand on hers and kept it there. To my amazement, Hermione clung to his hand as if it was a life line.

I watched her as intendly as she watched me, but I prefer to think that I was much more subtle about that. She was pale, which was emphasised in an unflattering manner by the black school robes she wore, and her usually so bushy hair hung down limp and lifeless. She also seemed to have lost weight. Was she ill?

The sound of violins startled me out of my thoughts. A string quartet opened the Memorial Service, and the whispers in the audience died down. After that, Professor McGonagall welcomed the congregation, followed with another piece of music. Then came the part I dreaded. Old Elphias Dodge spoke about his memories of the first war, and the hopelessness they had felt for years, until in one cold autumn night the wonder happened and the monster was destroyed.

I felt the bile rise in my throat. They had been free - at the price of the lives of my parents and of my childhood. Had it been worth it, considering that the magical world collectively put their heads in their arses after that, and let not only Voldemort return back to power without any resistance, but once more banked their hopes solely on me? Dumbledore probably would have said it was all for the Greater Good - as if that could ever fill the hole the loss of my parents had left in my heart, and remove the many scars, physically and mentally, I had received at the hands of the Dursleys and a magical world that hailed me as their saviour in one moment, and denounced me as Undesirable Number One the next.

Sensing my tension, Daphne put her hand on my clenched fists in my lap.

I turned my head and looked into her wonderful blue eyes. Seeing the unwavering love and support in them, the resentment drained off me like water from the back of a duck. Admittedly, I had suffered and made sacrifices in the fight against Voldemort, but I had also won my freedom, and my new life had given me a happiness I had never thought possible before. The future ahead of me was bright and full of promises, and it was all due to the young woman beside me.

I put my hand in Daphne's and squeezed it. She gave me a small smile, and then leaned her head against my shoulder.

Elphias Dodge stepped down from the pulpit, and Professor Flitwick took his place. I had never seen him that solemn as when he read out the names of the victims of the first war in alphabetical order. At each name, a friend or a relative would walk to the marble wall on the left side of Dumbledore's grave, and light a candle on the table that had been put up in front of it.

The reading seemed to go on and on, but the names I was waiting for came sooner than I was ready.

'James Potter - Lily Potter.'

Daphne squeezed my hand, then let go of me. I stood up and made my way down the seemingly endless aisle between the rows of chairs to the table with the burning candles. My hands trembled when I reached for the first candle, and I made slow and determined moves not to burn myself. I avoided to look at the columns of golden names in front of me, afraid I would lose it the moment I saw my parent's names.

The flash of a camera blinded me when I turned around to go back to my seat, and I almost stumbled. I should have known that not even that moment of grief for my parents was truly mine, but would be advertised to the magical world. With gritted teeth and clenched fists I walked back to Daphne.

The moment I sat down she wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. I let the comfort she gave me wash over me, thanking what ever deity was in charge of our fates for sending her into my life.

I had regained my composure by the time the reading of the names of the victims of the first war was over. Another piece of music followed, and then Kingsley stepped on the pulpit to speak about the second war. I listened with only half an ear. He had sent me his speech ahead, to make sure I was comfortable with it: a gesture of consideration I really appreciated. Thankfully, Kingsley's speech focussed on the resistance against Voldemort, especially the heroic deeds of those who saved the Muggleborns from the clutches of Umbridge and her Muggleborn Registration Office. My part in Tom's downfall was described as one among many, albeit a crucial one.

Kingsley came to an end sooner than I had anticipated. After Kingsley, a stern looking wizard with ice grey hair entered the pulpit. In a hoarse voice he began to read the names of the victims of the second war.

It didn't take long until I had to go to the front yet another time.

'Sirius Black.'

A murmur went through the audience that became louder when I got up from my seat and walked to the table with candles in front of the second marble wall. Sirius had been rehabilitated by the Wizengamot not long after the war, but there were still enough people who thought of him as the deranged mass murder. My connection to Sirius was not widely known, so a lot of people were surprised when Sirius Black, the mass murderer, was honoured by the Chosen One.

This time, my hands didn't tremble when I lit the candle, maybe because I had memories of Sirius, and had grieved for him in a way I never grieved for my parents. Again the flash of a camera blinded me when I walked back to my seat, but this time I was prepared for it, and didn't even blink.

While I walked back to my seat, the name of 'Colin Creevey' was read. Dennis stepped into the aisle to put up a candle for his brother. I stopped and gave him a brief hug, which he acknowledged with a sad smile and a slap on my back, and then squared his shoulders for the task ahead of him.

I had barely sat down when the next name that had meaning for me was called.

'Dobby, a free elf.'

Beside me, Hermione gasped, but she made no other comment when I stood up and walked down the aisle. That couldn't be said of the rest of the congregation. The whispering and murmuring in the rows got louder by the second as I put up a candle in remembrance of the faithful friend who gave his life to save us. I walked back to my seat, my head held high, and not heeding the cameras that were pointed at me.

Hermione gave me a tearful smile when I slipped back in my seat.

Daphne took my hand when I sat down beside her. Her fingers felt clammy and cold, and trembled slightly. I knew she was dreading the moment the names of her parents would be read out, so I put my arm around her shoulder and held her close, just like she had been there for me when I needed her comfort.

'Cyrus Greengrass - Isabella Greengrass,' the grey haired wizard read.

A shudder went through Daphne's body, and her face turned into the stony mask I had learned to associate with her hurting deeply, when she stood up and walked down the aisle.

'I had no idea that Greengrass' parents were killed during the war,' beside me Hermione whispered.

I paid her no heed. My eyes were focussed on Daphne as she walked down the aisle. She reached the table and picked up a candle to light it and put it beside the already burning candles. Her stony face betrayed nothing of the pain I knew she felt that moment. When she put up the second candle for her mother, a sunbeam caught in the diamond on her finger, causing it to flash brightly. A few people in the first rows gasped, and then stuck their heads together and whispered.

I groaned inwardly. Though we had no intent to keep our marriage a secret, we hadn't planned on advertising it today, either. But of course every bit of news concerning the Chosen One and his love interest was bound to catch the interest of the insatiable magical world.

Daphne turned around and began to walk back. In the bright sunlight I could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks, though her face still was a stony mask. She kept her composure until she had reached me. The moment she sat down, she flung her arms around me and buried her head at my shoulder. I felt how her body shook with sobs, and tried my best to comfort her and shelter her from the curious looks and the cameras that were directed at us.

Holding my wife and murmuring softly into her ear, I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the names. However, 'Remus Lupin' and 'Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin' caught my ear. I had to suppress a grin at the thought what Tonks would have said, had she known that her hated first name would be engraved in the memorial, to be read and remembered by generations of young wizards and witches. Probably something drastic that included at least one cuss word that would make a sailor blush, I decided, hardly suppressing a snort.

Hermione beside me was not that successful, and we exchanged a sad, little smile in memory of the spunky girl we both had been honoured to call a friend.

Mrs Tonks went down the aisle to put up a candle for her only child and her son-in-law. Her resemblance to Bellatrix was still unsettling, but I doubt that Bellatrix had ever worn such an expression of grief on her face. She had been incapable to love someone, so she had no idea what grief was.

'Frederick Weasley' was the last name to be read. George had the sad duty to put up a candle for his twin, and he shook like a leaf all the time while he did so. Angelina gathered him in her arms when he sat down, and I could see that he relaxed visibly.

The Memorial Service was concluded with another piece of music. After that, people stood up from their seats and walked up to the castle in small groups. Refreshments awaited us in the Great Hall, Headmistress McGonagall had announced.

Neville and Hermione waited for the majority of the congregation to leave before they stood up. Daphne and I also kept our seats. Daphne had regained her composure, but we both were not in the mood to join the masses that walked up to the castle. I exchanged nods in greeting with Bill and Mr Weasley as the Weasley clan passed by. George was still lost in his grief for Fred and didn't pay attention to his surroundings, but Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny all turned their heads to the side when they walked by.

Finally, we also left our places and slowly walked up to the castle. Hermione and Neville walked next to us.

'I'm sorry for your loss, Greengrass,' Hermione said, and Neville also offered his condolences.

Daphne thanked them with a sad, little smile.

We didn't talk much more on our way back to the castle, though I could see that Hermione was still trying to come up with a way to approach me as soon as possible.

The Great Hall was crowded with people. A buffet had been put up alongside one long wall of the room, and the house tables had been replaced by numerous small, round tables. I could see Ron standing near the buffet, a plate heaped high with food in one hand, and stuffing his face with the other. His eating manners hadn't improved since I last saw him. Some things obviously never changed.

We settled down at one of the last free tables near the entrance. The noise of the chatter in the room was deafening.

'Are you hungry, love?' I asked Daphne, but she shook her head. A house elf appeared, offering tea and coffee, and we each accepted a cup of tea, albeit I was amazed when Hermione asked for herbal tea.

We sat in an awkward silence. Neither Hermione nor I knew how to start after our last encounter, and my left hand fiddled nervously with the teaspoon on my saucer.

Hermione's gaze fell on my hand.

'Harry! Is that a wedding band?' she gasped.

Daphne and I exchanged a small smile.

'It is,' I confirmed.

'Congratulations, to both of you,' Neville smiled, while Hermione for once seemed to have lost the ability of speech.

'When did that happen?' she finally asked.

'Two days ago. We got married by the captain of the _Princess Isabella_ in a Muggle ceremony,' I told her. 'We're planning on exchanging our magical vows as soon as we've rebuilt Daphne's home. She wants a summer wedding in the gardens.'

Daphne smiled at me and took my hand, but didn't interfere in Hermione and my conversation.

Hermione's gaze had not once left my face. 'Are you happy?' she asked in a soft voice.

My eyes were drawn to my wife. 'As happy as I was never before in my life,' I confirmed.

'Then I'm happy for you,' Hermione said, taking a deep breath. 'My heartfelt congratulations.' She turned to Daphne. 'I'm sorry what I said about you when we last met. I didn't have all my facts straight, and I also wasn't in my right state of mind. I can now see how good you are for Harry: I've never seen him that happy before. But I'll give you only one warning.' She narrowed her eyes at Daphne. 'If you ever hurt him, you'll also have to answer to me!'

Daphne laughed at that. 'I wouldn't have expected anything else from you, Hermione. Everyone in our year knows how protective you and the Weasel are of Harry. Thank you, your approval means a lot to Harry and me.'

Hermione stiffened as she mentioned Ron, and I noticed how she balled the hand that didn't hold the handle of her teacup into a fist until the knuckles stood out white. 'Don't remind me of that moron,' she gritted out.

Neville put his hand on her balled fist and she slowly relaxed, giving him a thankful smile.

I watched the scene in front of me with increasing incredulity. As long as I could remember, Hermione had been Ron's girl, even back in the times when he still had no clue that she was a girl. Obviously, something had happened that made her change her mind. I was dying to find out, but unfortunately we were interrupted by Professor McGonagall who approached our table. Neville and I got to our feet.

'Please, keep your seat, Harry and Neville,' she said, standing between Hermione and me. 'I just came over to confirm our appointment with you and Miss Greengrass for after this reception. Come and see me in my office in about an hour.' She gave us a short nod, and then walked away to mingle with the other guests.

'What was that about?' Hermione asked, as inquisitive as always.

'Harry and I still have to take our N.E.W.T.s,' Daphne informed her over the rim of her teacup. 'Harry wrote to Professor McGonagall if she could recommend private tutors.'

'Ah, I see,' Hermione said. An awkward silence settled down between us after that. The ghost of our last encounter still stood heavily between us, and Hermione's latest revelations had given me a lot to think about.

Neville did his best to diffuse the strained mood. 'Are you still planning to join the Aurors after you've got your N.E.W.T.s, Harry?'

I shook my head at that. 'No, I think I've done my share of hunting dark wizards for more than two lifetimes.'

That had Neville, Hermione and Daphne chuckle.

'But what will you do, Harry? You have to earn a living for your family,' Hermione asked.

Daphne and I exchanged an amused smile. Thankfully, neither Hermione, nor Neville were like Ron, so I had no qualms to come clean with them.

'Actually, I don't, Hermione, at least not in the traditional sense,' I told her, rubbing my neck with my hand. I had no idea how she would take my decision to go into politics.

'You see, my grandfather, Fleamont Potter, was an exceptionally gifted Potions Master and chemist. He studied Chemistry at a Muggle university after he had finished his Potions Mastery. He first invented the _Sleak_ _Easy_ _Potion_ , and founded the _Sleak_ _Easy_ _Company_ , and then founded the _Aurora_ _Beauty_ _Company_ , together with a Muggle bloke from France.'

Hermione gasped at that. _Aurora_ beauty products were known to every Muggle in Europe.

'I hold substantial shares in both companies until today, and a seat on the board of directors of the _Aurora Beauty Company_ , not to mention a plethora of other investments and real estate,' I went on with my explanation. 'That alone keeps me pretty occupied.'

Hermione's eyes had gone wide, while Neville followed my explanations with a puzzled expression on his face. It was obvious he had never heard of the _Aurora Beauty Company._

'You must be one of the richest men of the world,' Hermione exclaimed.

'I'm not in the top ranks, but among the top hundred,' I confirmed. That got me an awed look from Neville.

Hermione, however, started to giggle. Her giggles soon became a full blown laughter.

'What's so funny about that?' Neville demanded to know.

'I gave him a dressing down because he took a cruise on a luxury ship and bought himself designer clothes,' she wheezed. 'Merlin, he probably could've bought the whole ship.' Again, she dissolved into laughter.

Her laughter was contagious, and soon all four of us were laughing.

Of course, Hermione was the first to regain her composure and focus on the parts I still hadn't covered. 'That's not all, isn't it, Harry? You have other plans.' Her eyes fixed me with an intent stare.

I nodded at that. 'You're right, Hermione. I've also inherited seats on the Wizengamot, from my own family as well as from Sirius.' I didn't mention the Prince and the Gaunt seat I could also lay claim on. They would find out about that soon enough. 'I plan on taking up the seats as soon as I'm old enough to do so. The decisions about our world are made at the Wizengamot. In my eyes it's a poor excuse for a governmental body. Most of the seats are held by either dark families or corrupt Ministry employees. I intend to change that. If we don't want to see the sacrifices we made during the war go to waste, and watch the ascent of the next Dark Lord, we need to make changes to the laws that guide us. The only place to make that happen is the Wizengamot. So, I'm going into politics.'

Hermione gaped at me. 'You, Harry? You're the last person I'd have expected to do that.'

'Stranger things have happened,' I remarked dryly. 'Hermione, I'm not the awkward teenager anymore who hated the attention he always got, and wanted nothing more than to be normal and unnoticed. Normality is a concept that doesn't apply to me, especially after I've sent Tom on the next, big adventure. I've finally learned to accept that. Since I can't escape my fame, I can at least put it to good use, and try to make the changes that are overdue in our society.'

She still looked at me as if she didn't know me. In a way, that was true. I had come a long way in the last year, and we had been out of contact most of the time. It was not amazing that she had a hard time to come to grips with the changed me.

Neville, however, beamed at me. 'Finally! You know that the Light Faction is waiting for the day you'll take up the mantle.'

Hermione gave him a puzzled frown.

'Neville has also a seat on the Wizengamot,' I told her. Then I turned to Neville. 'I know, but I doubt I will join the Light Faction. I see my role in the Wizengamot as an intermediary between the Traditionalists and the Light Faction. The moderate forces have to find a common ground, or they'll always be outmanoeuvred between the Ministry Faction and the Dark Faction.' I didn't mention my plans to undermine the power of these two factions. This was not the place to talk about them.

Neville's eyes flickered to Daphne, and he nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. 'That makes sense, considered to whom you are married. I suppose you'll also vote for the Greengrass seat?'

I gave my wife an amused side glance. 'I'd rather leave the voting for the Greengrass seat to Daphne. She knows what she's doing, considering she's the one who's tutoring me on my duties on the Wizengamot.'

'If you know what's good for you, love,' Daphne agreed, and kissed me on the cheek to take the sting out of her words.

Neville laughed at that. 'Your decision will cause a lot of raised eyebrows,' he prophesied.

'Why's that?' Hermione interjected. 'If Daphne inherited the seat of her family, she's surely allowed to cast the votes.'

'Legally, yes, but it's an unusual decision. The magical community is until today a patriarchal system. A heiress who inherited the family seat on the Wizengamot is supposed to appoint her husband as her proxy, until one of her sons is old enough to take up the mantle,' Neville explained to her, and raised his teacup from the saucer to take another sip.

Hermione made a face as if she smelled something unpleasant. 'Don't tell me about that! I've had enough of that nonsense lately.' She pushed her half emptied cup of herbal tea away. 'That stuff's nauseating.' Indeed, her face had a slight, green tinge. 'Excuse me, please, I need some fresh air.' She stood up and gave me a pleading look. 'Can we have a talk after your appointment with the headmistress?'

I nodded at that. 'We'll wait for you in the Entrance Hall in two hours.'

Flashing a relieved smile at me, Hermione turned around and almost fled from the hall.

Neville's eyes followed her hasty exit. He looked slightly worried. 'I'd better follow her, and make sure she's alright,' he announced and also stood up. He gave Daphne and me a nod. 'See you later.'

'Now, that's interesting,' my wife remarked, watching Neville leaving the room as she drained her cup of tea.

'What do you mean, love?' From my point of view, our whole conversation with Hermione and Neville had been as strange as it was interesting, and I had no idea to which part Daphne was alluding.

She cast me a weird, little smile. 'Not here, love. Have you finished your tea? Let's have a walk around the lake until it's time to talk to Professor McGonagall. We won't have that many listeners out there.'

I looked around the room. Though they pretended to be in lively conversations with the people at their own tables, I saw the many curious glances we got from the inhabitants of the tables that surrounded us. 'Good idea,' I nodded, and got to my feet.

On our way out we had the misfortune to run into a wall of redheads who also made their exit. Daphne and I halted our steps, but it was too late; they had already seen us.

Mr Weasley, Bill, Percy and George gave us polite nods, and so did Fleur and Angelina. Charlie gave the impression of a man who had no idea what he was supposed to think. His eyes wandered back and fro between us and his family, and he looked as if he wished himself miles away, back to the safety of his dragons.

I couldn't blame him. The look Mrs Weasley gave me would have put the Basilisk out of work, and made the Hungarian Horntail seem like a cuddly stuffed animal. I stood my ground, determined not to show her that I was quivering in my shoes.

Her eyes swerved to Daphne. The next second my anxiety turned into fury at the contempt in her eyes when she regarded my wife from top to toe. She said something to Ginny, who stood beside her. Ginny snorted, and also regarded Daphne with a look of disdain. However, when her eyes came to rest on Daphne's hand on my arm, she gasped: Daphne's rings were plain to see for everyone who cared to look. Her face morphed into the ugly expression she had shown the night she, Ron and Hermione had intruded upon our suite.

My wand slipped into my hand on sheer instinct, and I pushed Daphne behind me and sheltered her with my body.

Ginny bared her teeth, but made no motion to draw her wand. That was a smart move on her part: this time I wouldn't have hesitated to throw anything short of an Unforgivable at her, no matter how damaging that would have been to her body.

With a frown on his face, Mr Weasley stepped between me and his daughter, his hand on the pocket where he kept his wand.

Mrs Weasley said something to Ginny in a low voice, and the two women turned around and walked out of the castle. The rest of the family filed out of the door behind them. I thought that Mr Weasley and Bill gave me apologetic looks before they walked through the door, but that might have been my imagination.

Ron brought up the rear. He surely wasn't in an apologetic mood. He walked up to me, invading my personal space. 'You'll pay for what you've done to my sister, Potter!' He whirled around and walked out of the door. His exit would have been impressive, hadn't a gust of wind banged the ancient font door shut right before his nose, and he had to yank the handle twice before the crooked door cooperated and opened for him.

I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding, and turned around to Daphne.

She just stashed her wand back into her pocket.

'Are you alright, love?' I asked her, my eyes still on her hand with the wand.

'Just spiffing,' she assured me drily. Then she noticed my gaze, and she gave me a wry grin. 'You don't think I would've allowed that hussy to kill my husband, do you?' she said in a conversational tone, and took my arm to walk out of the castle.

I smiled at that. 'No, I've learned not to underestimate you, love, despite that you failed your Defense O.W.L.s. You manage rather well with a few standard spells, your inborn determination, and a certain ruthlessness. However, I'd feel more at ease if you'd appreciated my concerns for your safety, and stayed hidden behind me.'

We ambled down to the lake in the bright midday sunshine as we spoke.

Daphne snorted at my last statement. 'You're such a knight in shining armour.' Her eyes became two balls of blue steel. 'That's the difference between us, love. You'd die to protect the ones you love, while I'd kill to protect my loved ones.'

I stopped in my tracks and stared at the delicate beauty on my arm. There was no doubt in my mind about the truth of her statement. She would kill to protect me and our future children, and she would probably never feel a pang of remorse about it. What shocked me even more was the realisation that a part of me wholeheartedly agreed with her. Only minutes ago I had been ready to cast at Ginny whatever was necessary to subdue her, and wouldn't have cared if she got seriously hurt or even killed in that process.

'Sometimes you're downright frightening,' I said in an attempt to loosen the suddenly tense mood between us.

She gave me the impish grin I loved so much. 'Don't you forget it, love.'

The tension was broken. We laughed, and continued our way down to the lake. In silent, but mutual agreement we avoided the path that led to Dumbledore's grave, and led our steps to an area where a light wood reached the water. The May sun was already amazingly strong, and we were thankful for the cool when we reached the shadow of the trees.

'What was it you found interesting about Hermione?' I asked as soon as we were out of sight behind the trees.

Again, Daphne smiled that weird little smile. 'You've noticed that Hermione looks sick, haven't you? She doesn't want to drink tea, and herbal tea makes her nauseous, so that she has to leave the room. What does that tell you?'

I have to admit, I had no idea. 'That she has a case of tummy flu?' I asked tentatively.

My wife chuckled at that. 'You're on the right track with the tummy, love, but it's not the flu, albeit a lot of women mistake it for that in the beginning.'

She still spoke in riddles. Her continued chuckles told me that she found my ignorance highly amusing, and I doubled my efforts to find out what she was talking about. It finally hit me like a bolt of lightning out of the blue. 'You mean, Hermione is _pregnant_?' I asked, and heard how my voice cracked.

'I think so,' Daphne smiled.

I had to process that. I didn't know much about these things, but what little I had picked up in my life about the symptoms of an early pregnancy was surely there.

'You might be right,' I conceded, putting my arm around her shoulder. 'Who do you think is the father?'

Daphne snuggled against my side with a contented sigh, but at my question she stopped and cast me a surprised look. 'Why, the Weasel, who else? I thought that's evident after what George has told us about their exploits back in March.'

'One should think so,' I agreed as we walked on. 'But from Hermione's words I got the impression that she's broken up with Ron, and she and Neville seemed to be awfully cosy with each other.'

My wife considered my words, but then shook her head. 'I don't think so. I agree that she's broken up with the Weasel. If that's the case, it must've happened sometime after their visit in Colombo. That was barely a month ago. Hermione doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who breaks up with one guy and jumps into bed with the next one immediately after that, and Longbottom certainly isn't the kind of guy who'd take advantage of a girl in an emotional fragile state. He's more the type who'll provide a shoulder to cry on, and handkerchiefs and chocolate to get her back to life after the disaster. I think that's what he's doing right now. Pregnant or not, she needs a friend after her break-up with the Weasel, and he's there for her.'

We had reached a small clearing at the lake as we talked. A couple of boulders were scattered around, and we sat down on one of them, bathing our faces in the sun. It was pleasantly quiet here; the castle and its inhabitants were out of sight, and only the chirping of the birds in the trees could be heard.

Neither Daphne nor I had eaten much for breakfast, and we both hadn't been in the mood for food immediately after the memorial service. I called Kreacher and asked him to bring us sandwiches and butterbeer. He was only too happy to oblige, and a few minutes later we had an impromptu picnic.

After that it was time for our meeting with Headmistress McGonagall.

She greeted us warmly as we entered her office. 'Miss Greengrass, Harry, it's good to see you.' Just like Hagrid, she regarded me with a long look. 'You're looking good, Harry.' She looked as if she wanted to say more on that regard, but was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore's portrait behind her desk.

'Welcome back to Hogwarts, Harry,' he smiled at me. 'Miss Greengrass! It' s surely a surprise to see you together with Harry, albeit a pleasant one.'

'I disagree,' a surly voice interrupted us from the back part of the office.

I turned around. Snape's portrait sneered at me from its place where it was almost hidden between the larger portraits of two former headmasters. They feigned sleep, but were listening intently to our conversation, if their body language was anything to go by.

'Professor Snape; how do you do,' I greeted him politely. Even though he was a git in death as he had been in life, I was thankful to him that he had saved my life on more than one occasion, and in the end provided me with the crucial information I needed to bring down Tom once and for all. After I had come to that conclusion, I had no problems to show the dead man the respect I never had for him while he was still alive. Albeit I have to admit that the thought that he pined for my mother all his life still nauseates me.

'Potter!' he acknowledged me, much less politely. 'Miss Greengrass, it's nice to see you again. You always were one of my favourite students. At least you were able to appreciate the subtle art of brewing, contrary to others I could name.' He sneered at me once again.

I wasn't fazed about that. His portrait on the wall didn't have the power to unsettle me anymore. After all, I could shut him up with a Silencing Charm anytime he started to grate on my nerves, and he could do nothing about that. I put my arm around Daphne's shoulder, just because I could, and I knew that would raise his hackles. 'You're wrong, professor. This isn't Daphne Greengrass anymore. May I introduce my wife, Daphne Potter?'

Professor Snape's portrait made a face as if a huge load of dragon dung had just been dumped at his feet, while Professor McGonagall gasped in surprise, and Professor Dumbledore's portrait beamed.

'What possessed you to marry Potter, Daphne? Did he hit you with the Imperius Curse?' Professor Snape's portrait asked my wife.

Daphne gave him her most indignant Ice Queen stare. I am not ashamed to admit that I found the effect her glare had on Professor Snape's portrait highly amusing: the git literally withered under her stare. But Daphne was not yet finished with him.

'Certainly not,' she replied, and I swear her voice was cold enough to make the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. 'Don't you think it's about time to get over your prejudices about my husband, professor, and see him for the great man he really is, instead of mistaking him as a transfer picture of your childhood enemy? Not to mention how childish it was to allow your childhood animosities and losses to rule your adult life?'

I almost pitied Professor Snape - with " _almost_ " being the keyword there. It was just too satisfying to see him cowering in front of the rightful indignation of my wife.

'Uhm - congratulations, then. I hope you'll never come to regret your decision, Daphne,' the git said, ignoring most of her speech.

Never one to leave out an opportunity to rile him up, I replied, 'Thank you, professor. After the impact you and Professor Dumbledore had on my life, I'm even thinking of naming one of my future sons after you. Albus Severus Potter, doesn't that sound nice?'

I had had no idea that a portrait could become apoplectic. Professor Snape's face assumed an interesting shade of puce that would have rivalled Uncle Vernon's on the day I blew up his sister. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it. I could hear Professor Dumbledore chuckle.

Daphne, however, elbowed me in the side. 'Harry James Potter, you might be thinking of that, but I most definitely won't let you do that! With the burden of these two names the poor child will be unhappy for the rest of his life, especially if he's got the misfortune to look like you.'

That had Professor Dumbledore's portrait chuckle even harder, and I imagined that I heard a choked sound from Professor McGonagall. I shrugged my shoulders and turned back to Professor Snape's portrait.

'Sorry about that, Professor; you heard what the wife said. In another life, maybe. But now you've got to excuse us: we've come here to talk to Headmistress McGonagall about our education, and we can't occupy her time indefinitely.'

Professor McGonagall took up the cue, and led us to a small seating area near the window where once Fawkes' perch had been.

'What can I do for you, Harry and Daphne?'

I explained to her that we were looking for private tutors to see us and Tracey and Nott through the last year of our N.E.W.T.s.

Professor McGonagall regarded us with a thoughtful expression, and then summoned four scrolls of parchment. Our files, I supposed. She studied the parchments, and then looked up. 'You four took more or less the same classes. All four of you had Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology, while you and Mr Nott took Defense, Harry, and Daphne and Miss Davis had Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.' She leaned back in her seat, adjusting her glasses. 'I think all of your former professors will be happy to assist you. Also, next year Professor Sprout and I will take on Mr Longbottom and Miss Granger as master students. I think they'll both be happy to earn some additional pocket money with tutoring you in Transfiguration and Herbology. However, that would mean you four will have to live at the castle, because your lessons with us would be erratic, due to our other obligations, and you'd have to do a lot of self study. Do you think you can manage that?'

Daphne and I exchanged a look. 'I think self study won't be a problem, professor,' Daphne replied. 'Harry and I both have obligations with our family businesses, and the same is true for Theo. We all will appreciate a flexible schedule that leaves us time to take care of our other obligations. Where will we live if we return to the school? Would we be regarded as students? It would certainly feel weird to live in the dorms again, and be reduced to the status of a student.'

Professor McGonagall regarded her with one of her small, close lipped smiles. 'You'll stay in the guest quarters, of course. There are single rooms, but also bigger appartements for families. Mr Longbottom and Miss Granger will also live in that part of the castle. You'll have the status of master students, which means that you can leave the castle anytime you need to. While I know that money is not really an issue with you, Harry, I think we can come to an agreement about the costs of the next year. I have an offer for you, but I don't know if you are willing to accept it.'

'Try me,' I replied.

She actually chuckled at that. 'Well, Madam Hooch never recovered completely from the injuries she suffered during the Battle. She wants to retire, so I'm in dire need of a broom instructor. Since you're a natural on a broom…'

'I'll do it,' I interjected before she could finish her sentence. Teaching a bunch of excited firsties how to fly and make them experience some of the joy I had always felt on a broom sounded like great fun to me.

She let out a sigh of relief. 'Thank you, Harry, that takes a load off my shoulders. But there's also another problem.' She hesitated.

'How can we be of help, professor?' Daphne asked.

'Well, ever since poor Charity Burbage got killed by V-voldemort, and the abysmal teaching of Alecto Carrow during the last year of the war, the position of the professor for Muggle Studies isn't attractive anymore. Last year I already had to accept a teacher the Ministry sent me. While he was nothing like Umbridge, he wasn't what I deem adequate for the job, either. With you spending so much time in the Muggle world I thought…'

Daphne and I shared a look while she spoke. That was exactly what we had meant to talk about with her, as we made our first plans together how to change the magical world, way back on that trip from New York to San Francisco. I couldn't fathom my luck that it was so easy to broach the subject of the needed changes in Muggle Studies.

'Actually, Daphne and I meant to talk with you about the fact that the subject of Muggle Studies needs to be improved,' I interjected. 'We never thought of the possibility that you'll ask us to teach, but that's even better. Though, don't we need at least our N.E.W.T.s for that?'

A look of relieve appeared on Professor McGonagall's face, and she gave us one of her rare smiles. 'Thank you for making it so easy on me, Daphne and Harry. Well, of course you'll need a N.E.W.T. in Muggle studies, but that can be arranged easily. I doubt you'll have any problems to pass the test, even though you never took the subject.'

'I'd also like to offer a course in Wizard Traditions for Muggleborns,' Daphne added.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows rose at that. 'Why's that, Daphne?' She listened attentively when we explained our reasons.

'You're right,' she decided, after she had mulled over our arguments. 'The Muggleborns are always at a disadvantage in our society because they have no ideas about some traditions and social customs, and nobody ever cares to explain. I say go for it. It will certainly cause a shit storm from the Light Faction because it seems as if we're regressing to the old ways, and the Dark Faction will be most unhappy because we'll let the Muggleborns into secrets they'd rather keep from them, but I can handle that.'

Daphne beamed at me. I also felt satisfied. This meeting went much better than I had thought before. I had expected some resistance from Professor McGonagall to our ideas about Muggle Studies and the necessity to tutor the Muggleborns on Wizard Traditions.

Soon after that, our meeting came to an end.

'That went better than I expected,' Daphne mirrored my thoughts, and took my arm as we ambled down to the Entrance Hall to meet with Hermione.

'Do you think Tracey and Nott will object to living at the castle for another year?'

Daphne shook her head. 'I don't think so. Tracey told me that they don't want to live at the Nott estate. Apparently the manor's a dark place, full of horrible memories for Theo, and he doesn't want to start a family there. They're looking for a house near Royal Tunbridge Wells, but with Theo being busy with the Nott family business, and their N.E.W.T.s on top of that, they hardly have the time for that. I think they'll be thankful not to have to care about where to live for another year.'

We had reached the Entrance Hall while we talked. Hermione sat on a bench near the door, waiting for us. She was not alone: Neville sat next to her. Somehow, I wasn't surprised about that.

They stood up as we walked closer. 'Do you mind if Neville joins our talk?' Hermione asked, biting her lower lip.

'Not at all. After all, Daphne will also be there,' I replied.

She gave my wife a side glance. 'That's alright with me; what I have to say to you concerns her as much as it concerns you,' she assured me. She squared her shoulders. 'Whereto?'

'What about that tree at the lake where we always used to sit, for old times sake?' I asked.

She laughed at that, and went ahead. Daphne, Neville and I followed her down the familiar path to the lake. We didn't talk until we had reached an ancient downy birch near the shore. Hermione conjured a blanket to sit on, and I placed a Warming Charm on the ground, and a couple of Privacy Charms around us, before we all settled down.

I propped my back against the log of the tree. Daphne sat between my legs, her back leaned against my chest. The unbidden memory of a sunny spring afternoon in our sixth year came to me, when I had sat exactly in this spot, but the girl in my arms had been Ginny. I shooed the memory away, and concentrated on the task at my hands.

'What's on your mind, Hermione?'

She took a deep breath and cast an uneasy glance at Neville. He reached over and squeezed her hand, as if to encourage her. 'Just tell Harry what you found out. He will be mad, but certainly not at you,' he told her.

Now, that was interesting.

Hermione nodded and squared her shoulders. I found it even more interesting that she kept her hand in Neville's when she started talking.

'You've been right all along with what you said on the _Princess Isabella_ ,' she told my wife. 'I didn't want to believe it at first, but after we had come home, and the shock about everything that had happened settled down, I started thinking.' She gulped and flicked with her tongue over her dry lips. 'Harry's reaction to Ginny when her hair flew into his face _was_ strange. As much as I didn't want to believe that one of my best friends did that to my other best friend, I came to the conclusion that you've been right: Ginny has used a Love Potion on her hair to attract Harry to her.'

She pushed a strand of her unruly hair out of her face. The pain that conclusion still caused her was plain to see on her face. Friendship meant a lot to Hermione, just as it did to me, probably because we both grew up without friends. When we finally found them, we cherished what we had.

'I confronted Ginny,' she went on in a soft voice, looking over the Black Lake. 'Not only about the Love Potion, but also about what she's done in your suite. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would've believed she was capable to cast the Killing Curse at someone, or try to strangle someone with her bare hands.' She shuddered at the memory of that horrible scene, and so did Daphne and I.

I pulled Daphne closer to me, out of an irrational feeling of protectiveness. 'How did Ginny react to that?' I asked.

'She denied to have used a Love Potion on you,' Hermione replied. 'Funny enough, she sounded absolutely honest when she did so. For the other incidents, however…' Her voice trailed off, and again she shuddered violently.

Neville scooted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulder. She relaxed against him.

'She shrugged it off, as if it wasn't a big deal, and as if it couldn't bring her to Azkaban for life,' Hermione went on, and her voice trembled. 'You should've seen her eyes when I talked to her, Harry: there was madness in them. She was incapable to acknowledge that your relationship has ended months ago. She insisted that she was your fiancé, and that you were going to get married this summer. She thought it the absolutely sensible thing to kill Daphne because she came between you. It was as if she'd lost the grip on reality.'

Daphne and I shared a look. 'Tell her about the letters,' my wife said.

And so I told Hermione and Neville about the letters I had received from Ginny, beginning with the ones full of imagined sexual content, and finishing with those who were downright creepy and frightening. 'Daphne and I both had the impression that she's lost all grip on reality,' I concluded.

Neville cleared his throat. 'Is that why you didn't call the Aurors immediately after she tried to kill Daphne, or at least held her captive in your suite? You thought she wasn't accountable for what she's done?' he asked.

I blushed at the criticism in his words. He was right, of course. I had kicked my arse repeatedly over the last couple of weeks for simply sending Ginny away after she had cast the Killing Curse on Daphne.

'Partly,' I admitted. 'I have to confess, I wasn't in my right mind immediately after it happened. I was shocked to the core, and I wanted her to be as far away from Daphne as possible.'

Daphne nodded to that, and even Hermione looked as if she agreed.

'There were also practical reasons for my decision,' I went on. 'The ship just had left Colombo. You know that it's impossible to Apparate or Portkey to a moving target. The risk to splinch yourself or to get lost in the void is too big. Because of that, calling the Aurors to us was out of the question. We had three days at sea ahead of us before we reached the next port. It was too risky to hold Ginny captive on a Muggle ship for that long: the crew went in and out of our suite on a regular base, and they would've noticed something strange going on.'

'You could've informed the Aurors, so that they had arrested her the moment she arrived back home,' Neville objected, a grim line around his mouth. 'After what Hermione told me, she was unconscious from your Stunner for forty-eight hours.'

I gaped at him, not believing my ears. I must have put more power into that Stunner than I had realised.

'That was my fault,' Daphne interjected. 'Harry and I talked about everything that had happened the next day, after we had calmed down enough to think straight again.' She hesitated and tilted her head back, looking at me. 'How much does Neville know about the events of our second year and Tom's little trinkets, love?'

Neville looked puzzled. 'What has our second year or V-Voldemort to do with Ginny trying to kill you?'

I rubbed my face with the palms of my hands. 'Neville doesn't know any more about it than the rest of the school. But I don't mind telling him; I'm sure he'll keep the story to himself.'

'In contrary to someone else I could name Neville knows how to keep his mouth shut,' Hermione remarked scathingly from the shelter of Neville's arm, though she also gave me an inquiring look. Obviously she was amazed that Daphne seemed to know these details of my past.

I gave Daphne a little nudge. 'Go ahead and tell him, love. I'm tired of telling that story.'

Hermione's eyebrows went up at that, but she didn't comment.

Daphne turned to Neville. 'During our second year, Ginny Weasley was possessed by a soul fragment of Voldemort. It forced her to open the Chamber of Secrets, and to sic Slytherin's monster on the school.'

'Ginny did all that?' Neville asked, the disbelief plain in his voice.

I shook my head. 'She was only an unwilling tool. The real culprits were Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort, but that's another story.'

His eyes got huge and round at that, but he simply nodded, and motioned Daphne with a gesture of his hand to go on.

'It nearly killed her in the end, hadn't Harry arrived just in time to kill the monster and to destroy the soul fragment. The events of that year had a horrible impact on Ginny. She had missed a lot of her schooling, due to the times of possession, and never caught up with that. She never got close to her classmates because of the events of that year. Unfortunately, the Weasley parents chose to pretend that nothing had happened, and never got Ginny help to overcome that trauma. Instead, she was left to her own devices. Alone and friendless, the laughing stock of her class because of her alleged dumbness and the well known poverty of her family, she nourished her unhealthy crush on Harry.'

'She talked about you the whole time, Harry, when I took her to the Yule Ball,' Neville interjected in a soft voice, shaking his head.

'That doesn't surprise me,' Daphne replied. 'She never gave up on him, and was over the moon when they finally got together in our sixth year, though I suspect that she only managed that because she already used that Love Potion. She was devastated when he broke up with her only a few short weeks later. However, Harry overcame Voldemort, and he immediately turned back to her. She must have felt as if she was finally getting her happily ever after, but it was only a fluke before the next blow.'

Daphne took a deep breath before she went on. Her hand held mine in a death grip as she told the rest of the story. 'There was more than one soul piece of Voldemort floating around. One of them had attached itself to Harry when Voldemort tried to kill him on Halloween 1981. That soul fragment was killed the night of the Battle, when Voldemort cast a Killing Curse on Harry yet another time.'

Neville gasped at that, but didn't interrupt.

My hand hurt from Daphne's grip, but she went on with my story without as much as a tremble in her voice. 'Harry told Ginny everything that had happened as soon as they came back together. When she learned that Harry had had a soul fragment of Voldemort inside of him for so many years, she couldn't bear it. It probably brought back the memories of her possession. Harry told me that she recoiled from him and couldn't bear to touch him anymore. He tried to give her space and time to get used to it, but it was to no avail. Because of that, he ended it with her. However, Ginny couldn't accept that, either. I guess, her unhealthy crush on Harry was the only thing that kept her going for a very long time, and when her dreams went into shambles the moment she seemed to have reached her goal, something broke inside of her. She can't bear to be with Harry because of his history, but she can't let go of him, either. That made her lose the grip on reality, I think.'

I held her close, knowing what it had cost her to tell that story, but also thankful that she had spared me to tell it with my own words.

She turned her head and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. Then she turned back to Neville. 'That's why I told Harry I won't press charges against her for trying to kill me twice. I don't think that she's responsible for what she's been doing that night, and I can't stand the thought to send a girl to Azkaban that was abused when she was too young to defend herself, and never got the help she needed from those who were supposed to take care of her. You know these arguments don't count in front of the Wizengamot, Neville. They'll send her to Azkaban because she used the Killing Curse, and will never bother to ask why she acted that way, or if she can be held accountable.'

Neville's face had undergone a series of emotions while he listened to Daphne: from grim to compassionate, and finally understanding.

'I see your point,' he admitted. 'But you can't leave it at that. If she's so far over the edge as you suppose, she's a constant danger to you and to herself.'

'We know that,' I interjected. 'That's why I wrote to Arthur Weasley and asked to meet him and his heir tomorrow. He can't ignore the formal complaint of a Head of House about the conduct of a member of his house. We hope that we can persuade him to send Ginny to a Squib psychotherapist who helped me to get over my issues after the war. I'm even willing to cover the costs of that, if the Weasley's don't have the money.'

Of course, Neville had to point his finger on the sore spot. 'That's very considerate of both of you, Daphne and Harry, but what if the Weasleys don't agree to that? Mind you, Arthur Weasley and his heir are both honourable men, and they'll probably be glad for the way out you offer them. But I've also heard that it's Mrs Weasley who rules the roost in the Weasley family. After what I've heard from Hermione about her erratic behaviour during the last couple of months, I wouldn't count on her good sense.'

Daphne and I shared a helpless look. I hadn't allowed myself to think of that possibility, and from the way my wife looked at me I knew she also didn't. But, of course, Neville was right. It wouldn't do for us to stick our heads in the sand.

'In that case we'll have no other choice than to inform the Aurors,' I said softly, and Daphne nodded to that.

'We've collected the necessary evidence for that,' she informed Neville and Hermione. 'I've persuaded Harry to keep her wand: a simple _Priori Incantatem_ will show that the Killing Curse has been cast with it. We have a strand of her hair; an analysis will show the love potion. We've made photos of my throat, and we have the weird letters she sent to Harry.'

'You'll also have my testimony,' Hermione said in a hoarse voice. 'Though I hate it to do that to Arthur and Bill; however, Ginny can't allowed to go on like this if the Weasleys don't see reason.'

We fell into a thoughtful silence. Finally, I cleared my throat and looked at Hermione. 'As concerned as you are about Ginny, that wasn't all you wanted to talk about, was it, Hermione? What about your part in all of this? And what about Ron? The last thing I heard of you was that you were going on strong as a couple, but it seems to me that has changed.'

Hermione blanched at my words. She cast a helpless look at Neville, who squeezed her shoulder. 'Just tell Harry everything. I think he'll understand.'

She nodded, and squared her shoulder. Then she looked me straight into the eyes. 'You weren't the only one who was manipulated with a Love Potion, Harry.'

I stared at her, not believing what she said. Hermione had always been Ron's girl. 'You mean - you and Ron, all that drama, your devastation when he left us, that was all a fluke?' I stammered.

Hermione pushed a strand of her hair out of her face. 'Not entirely. I had a crush on him when I was a young teenager. After all, he saved me from that troll with a spell he mastered then for the first time.' A small smile played around her lips at the memory.

I also had to smile. Little did we know back then that our fight with the troll was the first of many hair rising and life threatening adventures to come. It had been the day the three of us had become best friends, but in hindsight it seemed to me as if our friendship had already started on an off note. 'You wouldn't have been in danger if Ron hadn't made that cruel remark about you.'

She gave me a sad smile. 'Yeah, that incident would somehow set the tune for Ron and my relationship, don't you think so? He'd do something incredibly insensitive that hurt me badly, and then set it right with a grand gesture that swept me away - until the next time.' Her voice sounded bitter.

I startled. I had never looked at them that way, but she surely had a point there.

'I was completely through with Ron after the Yule Ball,' Hermione told us.

Neville and I looked at each other and chuckled, both remembering the spectacular fight Ron and Hermione had had in the common room after the ball.

'I started dating Victor Krum, but broke up with him when he returned to Bulgaria. With the O.W.L.s in our fifth year, and that bitch Umbridge trying to get the school under her thumb, I had no time to think about boys. However, you can't imagine my amazement when my crush on Ron returned full force during the holidays before our sixth year, when we stayed together at _The Burrow_.'

Daphne stiffened in my arms. She turned around to me. 'Wasn't that about the time when you felt first attracted to Ginny, Harry?'

I nodded to that. 'What a strange coincidence,' I mused.

'It wasn't,' Hermione confirmed our suspicions. 'At first, I fought the crush. Ron is everything I hate about a boy: lazy, an insensitive big mouth, sloppy, and with horrible manners on top of that. But it became stronger, and after a while I accepted it. Well, you know how he trampled all over me during our sixth year, only to make up for it at Dumbledore's funeral.'

Neville and I exchanged a grim look. We had had first row seats to the drama all year long.

'My crush on him deepened while we stayed at _The Burrow_ before Bill and Fleur's wedding. I had just Obliviated my parents and sent them to Australia, so I was at my most vulnerable. I felt as if I had no one else to turn to than Ron. Then the Ministry fell, and the three of us had to go on the run. I knew that wasn't the right time to pursue my relationship with Ron, especially since…' She broke off and bit her lips, casting me an uneasy glance from under her eyelashes.

'Since Ron has always been jealous of me, and thought you and I had a thing going,' I finished the sentence for her.

She nodded to that. 'Well, you know what happened during the Battle, Harry.'

I chuckled. From the grin that spread across Neville's face I concluded that Hermione must have told him about her first kiss with Ron. Daphne, however, looked clueless. 'I'll tell you later,' I whispered in her ear.

'We travelled to Australia together to find my parents,' Hermione continued her tale, a wistful expression on her face. 'I was as happy as never before in my life. We found my parents, but…' A shadow flickered over her face as she interrupted herself mid-sentence. I could see how Neville pulled her closer to him and murmured something in her ear.

'I wasn't able to cancel the Obliviation Charm I'd put on them,' she told us, wiping her eyes. 'I don't know how I managed that, but in my desperation to save my parents I must've put much more power behind my spell as I realised, and I wasn't able to access that power again after the danger was over.'

That made sense to me. Under high pressure I had also managed to perform magic that had been impossible for me before.

She gave me a hopeful look. 'Actually, I'd hoped you'd come with me to Australia, and will help me to cancel that spell, but after what happened in Colombo…'

'Anytime, Hermione,' I interrupted her, and I meant it. 'Daphne and I already talked about to return to Australia for a longer visit,' I added to ease the tension.

A relieved smile spread over Hermione's face, and then she slumped against Neville and hid her face at his shoulder. He put his arms around her and rocked her gently, while she tried to regain her composure.

While Neville was occupied with Hermione, Daphne and I shared a silent look. I could see that she found the new dynamics among my friends highly amusing, but I still had to come to grips with the fact that Hermione broke it off with Ron and suddenly was awfully cosy with Neville.

Hermione straightened up and looked at me again. Her face was red and streaked with tears, and she still held Neville's hand.

'Thank you, Harry. You have no idea how much that means to me.' She took a deep breath, and then continued her story. 'Everything changed after that. I was heartbroken. Ron, however…' She bit her lip. 'You know how he is, Harry. He thought it wasn't that big a deal.'

'He always had the emotional range of a teaspoon,' I remarked.

That had her laugh. 'You remember that, even after all these years?' she asked.

'It's one of these poignant observations that are hard to forget,' I replied, and she chuckled even harder, before her face sobered.

'We returned home to another drama. You had broken up with Ginny for a second time and gone incommunicado. Ginny was heartbroken, and Ron was furious with you for hurting his little sister once again. I was trapped between that.'

I felt a pang of remorse. It wasn't the first time that happened to her when Ron and I fought, and she did not know which side to choose, but with the worry about her parents it was the most unfortunate time something like that could have happened to her. 'I'm sorry, Hermione,' I told her. 'I shouldn't have put you in that position.'

' _You_ weren't the one to put her into that position, Harry,' Neville interjected. 'It's all Ron's fault. He made Hermione choose between her friendship to you and her love to him. You know how unreasonable he can get.'

'I made the wrong decision,' Hermione admitted. 'Instead of telling Ron to bugger off, I tried to appease him by cutting ties to you. I didn't want to lose the Weasleys after I seemed to have lost my own parents.' Her voice became very soft at the last words.

Neville reached up with his hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She gave him a short side look and smiled. I had never seen her smiling that way at Ron.

'I was perfectly happy for a while; at least I told myself so. Ron, Ginny and I lived at _The Burrow_ , together with Mr and Mrs Weasley. In hindsight I have to admit that something was seriously wrong. Mrs Weasley wasn't herself anymore. You remember how much pride she always took into caring for her family, Harry?'

I nodded.

'Well, when we returned from Australia, the house was neglected. Instead of cooking and baking, Mrs Weasley spend her days pouring over the Weasley and Prewitt Family Grimoires, and brewing potions. She and Ginny spent hours locked away in the parent's bedroom, talking about Merlin knows what, while Ron and I had to take care of the house. I first thought nothing of that. After all, grief can do funny things to people. But then Bill, Fleur, Percy and George stopped to come for Sunday lunches. Shortly after that Mr Weasley moved out of the parent's bedroom and into Percy's old room.' Hermione flushed a bright red.

My mouth hung open. 'You mean…'

'For all intents and purposes Mr and Mrs Weasley live separately. I overheard a talk Mr Weasley had with Bill. He said he only still lived at _The Burrow_ because he couldn't afford the rent for a flat, with all the loans he still has to pay for the education of his children. Bill offered him a room in his house, in case he couldn't stand it at _The Burrow_ any longer. He also said his mother has changed so much that he doesn't know her anymore.'

Daphne and I exchanged a look. 'That fits with what George told us back in March,' she remarked.

'Unfortunately,' I nodded. 'Back then I thought she was still grieving for Fred, and probably extremely angry at me that I'd dumped Ginny. I know she had set her heart on Ginny and me getting married one day.' I messed up my hair with both hands in confusion. 'I never would've expected this.'

'Neither did I,' Hermione said softly, and leaned against Neville. 'Then came our unfortunate trip to Colombo. In hindsight, I have to say that Mrs Weasley was the driving force behind it. She was furious when we returned without you, Harry.' She worried her lower lips with her teeth. 'I was still shaken about what had happened, and when Professor McGonagall send me an owl to talk about my planned apprenticeship with her, I took the opportunity to leave _The Burrow_ and return to Hogwarts. The day before I left I discovered Mrs Weasley tampered with Ron's shampoo and mixed a Love Potion into it that bound me to him.'

I had no idea where my sudden worry for Hermione came from, but I asked, 'Does she know that you found out?'

She shook her head. 'No, I had a bad feeling about that, and kept quiet. For the same reason I didn't confront Ron,' she said, thus confirming my worry. 'But that's not all.' She exchanged a look with Neville. Again, he put an arm around her. 'Just go ahead with your story,' he encouraged her.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. 'Two weeks after I had returned to Hogwarts I found out that I am pregnant.'

My wife gave me a smug side glance, the words " _Told you so!_ " written all over her face, while I said, 'We supposed as much.'

Hermione looked taken aback. 'You knew?'

'"Suspected" is more like it,' I corrected her. 'Daphne made the conclusion by the way you looked and when the herbal tea nauseated you.'

'Oh.' Hermione's fingers played with the hem of her robes. 'You are not scandalised?' she asked when she finally looked up.

I shrugged my shoulders. 'There are worse things in this world than a baby out of wedlock,' I told her.

A bright smile appeared on Hermione's face. 'Thank you, Harry,' she said. Then she turned to Neville. 'See? I told you that Harry wouldn't be shocked about me being pregnant without being married.'

Neville looked as if he was going to reply, but Daphne was faster.

'That's because Harry grew up in the Muggle world, like you, Hermione. It's not a big deal for Muggles anymore, but I can assure you that being an unmarried mother in the magical world is not a bed of roses.'

Hermione's expression had become downright obstinate while Daphne talked.

'That's so nineteenth century,' she began, but was interrupted by Neville. 'I told you so, Hermione,' he said and threw his hands up in frustration. 'You'd better listen to Daphne, if you don't want to believe me.'

Daphne regarded Hermione with a look full of sympathy. 'Getting a baby out of wedlock is the worst thing that can happen to a girl in our society,' she informed Hermione. 'Usually these things are hushed up, and a quick marriage is arranged. But after what you've told us I suppose you don't want to marry Weasley, and I can't blame you on that. Does he even know he's going to become a father?'

Hermione shook her head at that. 'No, and if I'll have my way, he never will. I don't trust Mrs Weasley. She'll try to get me and the baby under her thumb. In her present state I can't let that happen.'

I couldn't blame her on that decision, and by the looks on Daphne and Neville's face I could see they at least agreed with that part of Hermione's reasoning. However, by the way Daphne worried her lips between her teeth and shot sympathetic glances at Hermione, I knew that was only one part of the picture.

Neville turned to Daphne 'I offered her a marriage contract.'

I jumped, but Daphne didn't look surprised.

Hermione whirled around. 'And I told you that it's sweet of you, Neville, and that you're a better friend than I deserve, but that I can't accept your offer. I don't want you to bind yourself in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life, considering that magical vows are binding.'

By the dejected look on Neville's face I doubted that the marriage he had offered to my best friend was loveless on his side, but of course Hermione was not in the shape to see that. Instead, she seemed to be on one of her rolls about the backwardness of the magical society.

'Shut up, Granger!' Daphne interrupted her.

Hermione gaped, but the words that obviously were at the tip of her tongue never left her mouth when she saw the angry expression on Daphne's face.

'I know what you're going to say, and I can't say I disagree with you,' my wife said, while she smiled at Hermione in a way that took the sting out of her harsh interruption. 'However, your passionate rant can't negate the fact that the magical world still is very different from the Muggle world. If you want to stay in the magical world, you have to play by the rules, like it or not.'

Hermione huffed at that, but Daphne didn't give her the chance to interrupt her. 'You told us that Professor McGonagall offered you an apprenticeship. Well, I don't know how far you're along, but she will be forced to terminate your contract as soon as your pregnancy becomes obvious. The board of governors will see to that: they won't tolerate an unmarried, obviously pregnant young witch living and working at a school full of innocent young witches and wizards. Even if Professor McGonagall doesn't want to, she has no other choice. Her own reputation isn't strong enough to survive such a scandal, and she would also lose her job.'

She paused and let her words sink in.

'I told you so,' Neville said, but Hermione still looked obstinate.

'You also don't understand the implications of what Neville offered you,' Daphne went on. 'He offered you a marriage contract, but not to marry you: that's a huge difference.'

Hermione looked puzzled, but after our discussions at the _Princess Isabella_ the day we decided to marry I knew where Daphne was heading.

'There are different ways to get married in the magical world,' I explained to Hermione, who still didn't understand. 'You can have magical binding vows, like Bill and Fleur have. You can also have a Muggle wedding, or a marriage contract. Daphne and I had a Muggle wedding, and Neville offered you a marriage contract. The difference between these two options and magical binding vows is that there is a way out: you can have a Muggle divorce or mutually terminate the contract.'

Neville nodded to that. 'On the plus side, any child born within the duration of the contract would count as a legitimate child of the husband.' He let his words sink in.

'I had no idea about that,' Hermione said, still looking flabbergasted.

'Well, you never let me finish my explanations,' Neville replied drily, but the amusement in his voice was evident.

I snorted at that, and Daphne had to avert her face to hide her laughter. She scrambled to her feet and held her hand out to me to haul me up from the ground. 'Well, that were surely interesting news you had for us today, Hermione. I guess you and Longbottom have a lot to talk about right now, so Harry and I will take our leave.'

Both Hermione and Neville turned beet red at her words, but made no objections.

I sniggered while I also got to my feet, ignoring the glares my two fellow Gryffindors sent at me.

'Send me an owl if you need anything, Hermione,' I told her. 'We'll talk about when and how best to restore the memories of your parents after Memorial Week.'

She nodded to hat, but her eyes were focussed on Neville. It was plain to see that right now she had something else on her mind.

Still chuckling to myself, I lead my wife to the gates of the castle.

t.b.c.


	10. Memorial Week - Monday, May 3rd 1999

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

 **Author's notes:** This is fresh from my tablet, without any editing. I apologise in advance for the many mistakes. Today is the one year anniversary of the last update of this story, as one reader pointed out to me repeatedly. ;) I didn't want to leave you without another update for more than one year, so I decided to post the chapter without asking someone to edit first.

* * *

 **Monday, May 3rd 1999**

Breakfast was ready when Daphne and I came down to the kitchen at an unholy early time on Monday. We had agreed to meet with Mr Weasley and Bill at the Leaky Cauldron before they had to go to work.

Daphne was unresponsive, as always in the early mornings. She poured herself a mug of tea and took the first sip, her eyes not yet fully open. The instant transformation her face went through was hilarious: the grumpy lines on her face were smoothed out as if by magic, and the corners of her mouth turned up.

However, I knew better than to talk to her yet, so I picked up the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ Kreacher had put beside my plate, and unfolded it.

I was greeted by my picture that covered the bigger part of the front page. It must have been taken right after I'd put up the candles for my parents: my eyes looked dark and unfocused, and I had my fists clenched. The headline above the article that came with the photo was in typical _Prophet_ -style:

 _ **Chosen One Pays His Respects to the Fallen**_

I skimmed the article, sure there wasn't anything of interest in it. One paragraph, however, caught my attention, and I began to read the article:

 _Though the alleged mass-murderer Sirius Black has been cleared of all accusations by the Wizengamot a few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, many wizards and witches felt it inappropriate that he was honoured by the Chosen One during the service. It is not common knowledge that late James and Lily Potter appointed Black as the godfather of their only son, and his guardian in case of their untimely death. In this light, it of course behoved the Saviour of the Wizarding World to pay his respects to a man who has been wrongly imprisoned and hunted by the magical world._

 _Even stranger than this, however, was the gesture of honour the Chosen One paid to a house elf. This reporter has not yet been able to discover the connection between the Chosen One and the elf in question, but is still working on it. The_ Daily Prophet _will keep its faithful readers informed as soon as our investigations bear fruit._

 _However, the fact that The Chosen One neglected to show the slightest gesture of acknowledgement to Albus Dumbledore, the man who sat his feet onto the path to the destruction of Tom Riddle - as the Chosen One himself admitted in a press conference immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts - was ill received by the attendees of the Memorial Service. It was left to Aberforth Dumbledore…_

I put the newspaper down with a shake of my head. The Memorial Service had been held for the relatives of the fallen. There was no family connection between the Potters and the Dumbledores, so it had not been my place to remember Albus Dumbledore. It was different with Sirius and Dobby: Sirius had been my godfather and guardian, and I was sure Dobby had bonded with me at one point, though he never told me.

However, the article made me think about my relationship with Dumbledore, no matter how unwelcomed these thoughts were.

I'd looked up to Dumbledore from my first day on at Hogwarts. It wasn't that surprising: I'd been an impressionable eleven year old who had just been introduced to the strange and wonderful magical world, a place where for the first time in my life I was not considered a freak and ridiculed. My first ideas of this world had been deeply influenced by Hagrid. I took his statements at face value, for no other reason that he was the first adult who was friendly to me and answered my questions. By now I knew it didn't speak for my emotional and intellectual development during my Hogwarts years that I never thought of questioning Hagrid's view on Dumbledore, and by default my own. Not once I made the effort to learn more about the new world I'd been thrust into, but was content with the snippets I picked up here and there while growing up. Nobody else was to be blamed for that omission than myself.

My idealised picture of Dumbledore had got first cracks when he left me hanging to dry in my fifth year. However, even after Sirius's death I not once faltered in my loyalty towards him, although in hindsight I should've asked myself what sick game the old man was playing by withholding vital information from me, thus leading me to wrong conclusions that cost Sirius' life in the end…

Daphne's voice startled me out of my morose thoughts. 'You look as if the _Prophet_ printed something you don't like.'

I looked up. She had her elbows propped up on the table, her mug with tea held in both hands, and regarded me with concerned eyes.

I forced a smile on my lips. 'Not so much something I don't like, but something that got me thinking.'

She gave me a contemplative gaze over the rim of her mug, but - as always - left it at that. She knew I'd come to her and talk when I was ready.

I leafed through the paper in an attempt to hide my face from my much too observant wife, while I still thought about my relationship to Dumbledore. We'd come the closest during my sixth year: he had trusted me with the information he had collected about Voldemort, thus equipping me with the means to destroy the monster. When Dumbledore died, I felt obliged to follow this path.

My trust in Dumbledore had waned once again when I discovered the scheme for _The Greater Good_ he had developed together with Grindelwald.

Then came that moment during the Battle, when I watched Snape's memories in the Pensieve, and found out what an outrageous sacrifice was demanded of me. I'd submitted myself to the demand, of course; at that point there'd been no other way to get rid of Voldemort. Nevertheless, when everything was over, I couldn't help but wonder if there really hadn't been no other way than to set me up as the proverbial sacrificial lamb.

When I talked about that to Mr Freid during one of my therapie lessons, he explained the concept of Machiavellism to me. The discovery of the machiavellist behind Dumbledore's benevolent, grandfatherly appearance made me violently sick. I still hadn't made up my mind whether to hate the man or to be thankful for his guidance.

I knew it wasn't very smart to take that special trip down on memory lane shortly before a very difficult meeting, so I scanned the _Prophet_ for something to distract me. I found it on page three, in the gossip column: a rather amusing article that speculated if the flash quite a number of witches claimed to have seen coming from Daphne's left hand during the Memorial Service had been caused by an engagement ring. The opinions of the witches who gave their statement in that article were rather divided on that topic.

I folded the newspaper with a grin on my face and put it beside my plate. The magical world would be in for another heated discussion after Wednesday, when Daphne's new name was revealed.

Daphne and I finished our breakfast in silence; Daphne because it still was too early for her to be talkative; I because I tried to prepare for the meeting ahead of me.

Unlike yesterday, we'd both dressed in smart Muggle business attire today, since we both had to look after the Muggle parts of our holdings after our meeting with the Weasleys. So, we were able to leave our house and amble over the street towards the garden of the square without having to put Notice-Me-Not Charms on us. Daphne Apparated us to a side alley of Charing Cross Road, in close proximity to the Leaky Cauldron.

'It's the common Apparition point for wizards and witches who want to Apparate to Diagon Alley,' she told me, while she pulled deep blue business robes over her grey pant suit. I also pulled the shrunken business robes I carried with me out of the pocket of my suit pants. Daphne had suggested wearing them over our Muggle clothing for the meeting with the Weasleys: we'd raise less attention that way as if we were to enter the pub in Muggle clothes.

I've no idea if it was due to the robes or the unholy early hour, but hardly one of the few customers of the pub looked up when we entered the taproom. Daphne went over to Tom to ask for a private room and ordered tea and biscuits for four.

A few moments later we found ourselves in a long and narrow room off the taproom. A long, dark table took up most of the space, surrounded by a dozen of high-backed chairs that were cushioned in red plush with golden tassels. Like in the bedroom on the first floor, the furniture gleamed, and the whole room smelled slightly of furniture polish. The opposite wall was dominated by a huge fireplace with a merrily crackling fire. Two small windows looked out on Charing Cross Road. Due to the grimy appearance of the pup at the Muggle side they let in very little light, and thanks to excellent Silencing Charms on the windows the noise of the busy street hardly could be heard inside the room.

Daphne and I took a seat at the head of the table, near the fireplace. I shifted in my seat and tapped my fingers on the polished surface of the table. Images of at least half a dozen possible outcomes of the talk taunted me, one more disastrous than the other.

My wife put her hand on mine. 'Stop fidgeting, love. You'll do fine.'

I was just about to utter my doubts about that, when there was a knock on the door, and Mr Weasley and Bill came into the room, in time with the tea Daphne had ordered. They both didn't smile and their posture was tense, as if they expected an attack - or a very unpleasant talk. Well, that was something we had in common.

Daphne and I both rose from our seats to greet our guests.

Their eyes widened for a short moment when Daphne stepped beside me and took my arm, and they exchanged a quick look that only could be described as apprehensive. Daphne had told me that meetings like this were limited to the heads of houses and their heirs - or their wives, as long as there wasn't a heir old enough to attend to such a meeting. Her presence at this meeting was a dead give away we were already married, even though we'd not yet made a public announcement. Given Mrs Weasley and Ginny's behaviour towards my wife when we ran into each other yesterday, their concern was understandable.

I stepped forward, aware of the curious, yet covert glances Hannah Abbott gave us while she put the cups and teapot on the table.

'Mr Weasley, it's good to see you again,' I said, a forced smile on my lips, and held my hand out.

He took it with a firm grip and a smile that was as forced as mine, and put his other hand on my shoulder. 'Welcome back to England, Harry. It's about time we meet again - although I would've hoped we'd met in happier circumstances,' he added in a low voice, mindful of Hannah's strained ears. He gave my shoulder a squeeze and stepped aside to make room for Bill.

'Good morning, Harry,' Bill said and pulled me in a one armed hug with lots of shoulder slapping. He drew back and looked at me from head to toe. 'You're looking good: travelling obviously suits you,' His grin didn't reach his eyes: he put on a show to distract Hannah, and I answered in kind.

Hannah left the room - finally -, and I pulled Daphne to my side. 'Daphne, let me introduce you to two of my oldest friends, Arthur Weasley, and his heir, Bill Weasley. Mr Weasley, Bill: this is my wife, Daphne Potter.'

They showed no sign of surprise, bowed over Daphne's hand and kissed her knuckles as it was custom, and offered their congratulations to both of us. However, it was plain to see their minds were occupied elsewhere.

I ushered them to the head of the table where they sat down opposite of Daphne and me. While Daphne poured our tea, I went over possible ways to begin the conversation. To be honest, I hadn't done little else since we left Grimmauld Place, but yet had to come up with a start that didn't feel absolutely inappropriate or awkward.

Daphne put the teapot back on the table; Mr Weasley and Bill looked at me expectantly. My mouth went dry, and I had to gulp several times while my brain refused to form words. The silence stretched on until it became uncomfortable.

My wife took my hand and interlaced her fingers with mine. 'Stop trying to make speeches, Harry. These are your friends. You can talk openly.'

'Right.' I relaxed, returned the soft pressure of her hand, and slipped my wand out of its holster and cast strong Privacy Charms on the walls, on the doors and the windows. With a deep breath, I turned to our guests. 'Mr Weasley, Bill - this isn't easy for me, as you can see. There've been a few… incidents… you need to know.'

Mr Weasley let out a deep sigh. He slumped in his seat and shared a look with Bill. 'Who is it - Ron, Ginny, or my wife?' His voice sounded resigned, while Bill pressed his lips into a hard, thin line.

'Ginny,' I replied, 'and Ron, though to a lesser extend.'

'What have they done?' Bill asked.

I started with the encounter we had with Ron in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in March. When I described how Daphne disarmed Ron in the end, Bill again pressed his lips together. However, the amused glitter in his eyes gave him away.

'What a moron.' He shook his head. Mr Weasley looked as if he agreed, but didn't comment.

'Well, that's Ron for you,' I replied. 'I wouldn't have lost a word about it; afterall, Daphne made him a laughing stock, if not something had happened I can't sweep under the rug.'

I took another deep breath. If there was an easy way to tell a man who'd never been anything but kind to you about the way his wife and youngest two children had treated Daphne and me, I didn't know about it that morning. I launched into the tale about the events in Columbo, from the moment we noticed the uninvited guests in our suite, to the way Ron and Ginny had insulted Daphne, the Killing Curse Ginny had cast at Daphne, and her attempt to throttle her when we found out her hair was covered in a Love Potion. From there I skipped to what Hermione had told us yesterday about Mrs Weasley adding a Love Potion to her shampoo.

The faces of both men became paler with every word I said.

'I had no idea,' Mr Weasley whispered.

Bill cleared his throat. 'Why didn't you inform the Aurors?'

'You remember what happened to Ginny during her first year?' I asked.

Mr Weasley's face froze; he lowered his gaze and shifted in his seat, but didn't answer.

'Ginny was ill and missed a lot of her classes,' Bill said, a frown on his face. 'That was most unfortunate, since she never caught up.'

I looked at him. 'That's all you know about that year?'

'Why, yes; is there more to know?'

The expression on my face must have given him the answer, because he gripped the handle of his teacup until his knuckles stood out white and turned to his father. 'What happened during Ginny's first year you didn't tell us?'

Mr Weasley winced, his gaze still lowered to the polished surface of the table. 'Ginny was possessed by a soul fragment of Voldemort,' he said at length. The words were barely audible.

Every drop of blood seemed to drain off Bill's face. He slumped forward, propped his elbows on the table, and buried his face in the palms of his hands. 'Oh, sweet Morgana!'

Mr Weasley still didn't look up.

Daphne and I waited in the strained silence until Bill had regained his composure. When he finally pulled his hands from his face, his eyes were bloodshot. He opened his mouth, but no word came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'Why didn't you tell us, dad? At least Charlie and me?' His voice was unsteady.

Mr Weasley raised his head and looked at his heir. 'Your mother… she was afraid it would spread and endanger Ginny's chances to contract a decent marriage.'

Some colour returned into Bill's face and he let out a huff. 'I know my mother still lives in the last century, given her notions about how a girl should behave. However, I can't understand why you supported her in that. Did Ginny at least get treatment to overcome her ordeal?'

One look at his father's face told him what he wanted to know: the guilty expression on Mr Weasley's face was a dead give-away.

'Of course not.' Bill growled and leaned back in his chair, his arms folded in front of his chest. 'I suppose mother thought that also would endanger her chances with the male sex.'

Mr Weasley didn't answer to that, instead he seemed to retreat even more into himself.

Daphne gave me a slight nudge with her knee, and I took the silence that spread between Bill and Mr Weasley as my cue to continue my story. 'I discovered during the Battle that I also carried a soul fragment inside of me, albeit it wasn't as strong as the one Ginny had to deal with. Voldemort destroyed it as he attempted to kill me in the forest.'

Mr Weasley and Bill both startled and looked at me with wide eyes. If they realised I'd glossed over a lot of important facts, they didn't let on.

I took a sip of tea against the dryness of my mouth. 'As you can imagine, that's been a traumatic experience for me. I needed someone to talk about it after the Battle of Hogwarts, and Ginny was the most natural choice: she was my girlfriend and she'd made similar experiences. I thought she'd understand.' My voice faltered. Even though I'd put the past behind me and found true love with the woman beside me, the memory of that day still hurt.

Daphne leaned toward me and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. I turned my head and smiled at her, once again thanking the deities that were for sending her into my life.

'It also was the most unfortunate choice: it turned out that Ginny never got over the trauma of her first year. When I told her I'd had a piece of Voldemort inside of me that didn't go down well.'

Bill let out a mirthless chuckle and scrubbed across his face with the palm of his right hand. 'I imagine; I think I've seen the outcome of that talk: she avoided you like the plague for the last two weeks before you left. Tell me, how did she react immediately after you'd opened up to her?'

There was no use in sugarcoating things. 'She threw up and recoiled from me. That put quite a damper on our relationship.'

Bill acknowledged my bad attempt of humour with a weak grin.

Mr Weasley reached across the table and squeezed my hand. 'I'm sorry, Harry. I'd always hoped…' His eyes flickered to Daphne. 'That's apparently out of the question now.'

'I'm also sorry, Mr Weasley. Believe me, I did everything to patch up things with her ... she wouldn't even stay in the same room with me. I … I needed some time until I came to the conclusion our relationship was truly over, and broke up with her.'

'I remember that day,' Bill said. 'She didn't take that well, either,'

That was an understatement. Ginny had screamed at me like a Banshee, and had cast her infamous Bat-Boogey-Hex at me. I'd repelled the hex with a flick of my wand; for some reason that had made her even angrier.

Bill shifted in his seat. 'While I'm appalled what has happened to my little sister and she never got treatment for that, I don't understand what that's got to do with your decision not to inform the Aurors, Harry.'

I shared a look with my wife.

'Harry and I think the trauma Ginny suffered in her first year at Hogwarts is at the root of her present behaviour,' Daphne said.

'You remember how she used to crush on me that year?' I added.

A faint smile appeared around Mr Weasley's mouth. 'I'll never forget that. You were both so embarrassed by each other and so cute.'

Heat shot into my cheeks. The low chuckle from my wife didn't help at all. 'If possible, her crush got even worse after I saved her from Voldemort at the end of her first year. All of her second year and a good deal of her third year she'd sit in our common room and follow me with her eyes. It was unnatural, almost like an obsession, and made me feel rather uncomfortable. I thought she'd finally got over me when she started dating Corner. Well, it turned out she'd moved on, but she'd never given up on me. At least that's what she said once.' I pulled at the collar of my dress shirt; Merlin, why had I to be the one who had to tell them?

Daphne took mercy on me. 'It must've been a dream come true for her when Harry finally noticed her. They started dating about two weeks before Dumbledore was killed, and everybody at school could see that Ginny was on cloud number nine. The more devastated she was when Harry broke up with her right after Dumbledore's funeral.'

'I didn't want to,' I said in a low voice. 'I had to, I didn't want her to become a target. I couldn't take her with me like Ron and Hermione, not with the Trace still on her.'

Daphne took my hand and laced her fingers with mine. 'When Harry returned to her the day after the Battle of Hogwarts, she probably thought she'd now have her happily ever after. It wasn't meant to be. Harry telling her about the soul piece of Voldemort he'd carried in him all these years must've brought back the suppressed trauma of her first year. She couldn't cope with the news, she couldn't even bare to touch Harry anymore, and yet she refused to let go of him. We think something broke in her that day.'

I took up from there. 'On my first day at sea I got a letter from Ginny. To be honest, I didn't want to read it, so I stashed it away and forgot about it. Daphne's mother had died the night before, and Daphne was in a state of shock. Frankly, I was more concerned about her than about Ginny.'

I shifted in my seat, worried how they would take that. Admittedly, I had been single for about half a year at that point, but I guess no father or brother likes to hear that you push their daughter, respectively sister, aside to take care of another woman. They both didn't seem to bother, and I let out a small breath, though Bill shot me a curious look. I didn't need to be a Legilimens to know he was wondering when and where Daphne and I had met, and how the death of Mrs Greengrass fitted into that.

'That's understandable,' he said, and motioned me with a gesture of his hand to continue.

'I didn't think about Ginny again until a couple of weeks later,' I said. 'She sent me another letter that I found quite disturbing.' I had no idea how to go on from here, I ran my hand through my hair, as if messing up my unruly mop even more would help me to order my train of thoughts. Amazingly enough, it did. 'She acted as if our break-up had been a misunderstanding; an insignificant lover's spat that could be mended easily. Worst of all, she acted as if everything had been my fault, and that it didn't take much more than me apologising to her, Ron and Hermione to set everything back to rights.'

Bill startled. 'Now, why would she do that, after she reacted that appalled to the news about the soul fragment of Voldemort inside of you?' he exclaimed.

'Exactly,' Mr Weasley nodded.

I shifted in my seat. How was I supposed to tell them that I suspected that Ginny had already begun to go around the bend back then?

Daphne came to my rescue, once again. 'When Harry finally talked to me about that letter, he said it seemed to him as if she was losing the grip on reality.'

Bill blanched. He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes dark with worry, and cast a short look at his father, who seemed to be as shaken as he was.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat. 'When did you get that letter?'

The question caught me unawares. To be honest, I had hardly paid heed to the dates during our cruise. By the way Daphne furrowed her eyebrows in thought I could see she had the same problems.

'I think, the letter arrived shortly after we'd left San Francisco,' I said, and turned to Daphne, my eyebrows raised in a silent question.

Daphne nodded to that. 'Yes, that seems right to me. That was at the beginning of February.'

Mr Weasley and Bill shared another look. They neither seemed as surprised nor as angry about our accusation as I had feared. Could it be they had also witnessed the signs and drawn the same conclusions as Daphne and I had?

'That fits,' Bill said, 'That was about the time we noticed how strange mother and Ginny were behaving,' and Mr Weasley nodded.

'How did you react to that letter?' Mr Weasley asked.

'At first, I did nothing,' I said. 'About two weeks later, however, I wrote back and told her to move on, for her own sake.'

For the second time that morning Bill chuckled mirthlessly. 'So, that was the mysterious letter that caused the big outburst on Ron's birthday. Oh my.' Once again, he scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand. 'Did she write again after that?'

'I got a Howler,' I admitted.

Mr Weasley almost jumped in his seat. 'On a Muggle cruise ship? How were you able to cover that up?'

'The goblins gave me a Banishing Box. Howlers and other unpleasant mail are filtered out.'

'Right,' Mr Weasley breathed a sigh of relief.

I didn't tell him that I had also got a Howler from his wife that day. Instead I said,

'A couple of days later I got a letter from Hermione. In that letter she begged me to return to Ginny.'

I sighed and exchanged a look with my wife. Her eyes told me she remembered that day as well as I did.

'I wrote her back I couldn't see a future for Ginny and me and asked her to make Ginny see reason. I thought Ginny and Hermione would accept my decision after that and leave me alone.' I snorted. 'Fat chance; instead it became worse.' I had drained my cup of tea during my narrative, and found it impossible to go on without a cup I could hold to if things became too uncomfortable, so I pulled the teacan towards me and poured myself another cup. 'Rita Skeeter had followed us while we were in Sydney. I guess you've seen that article she wrote about Daphne and me.'

Mr Weasley and Bill nodded to that. Bill had a broad grin on his face that made me want to flip him the bird. However, Daphne would want to have my hide for that, so I refrained from that childish action.

'Daphne and I both had to interrupt the cruise around the middle of March, and returned to England.' I turned my head to my wife and smiled at her. That had been the worst time of my life, but it had soon turned out to be the beginning of the happiest time in my life.

Daphne kept a bland face, but the corners of her mouth turned slightly upward, and she once again gave me that special look that was only reserved for me.

'George told us he met you in Diagon Alley,' Mr Weasley's voice broke into my memories.

'Uh - right,' I said. Warmth crept into my face at being caught lost in memories. 'That also was the day of our little encounter with Ron. We had a short chat with George, and he told us how worried he was about Ginny, his mother and Ron. From what he told us, they all seemed to behave rather out of character, especially the way Mrs Weasley acted.' I avoided looking at Bill and Mr Weasley. Damn, this didn't get any easier as I progressed with my story, just the contrary.

Mr Weasley and Bill exchanged another look. The grim, hard line around Bill's mouth appeared once again, while Mr Weasley slumped back in his seat and seem to age in front of my eyes.

'That's putting it mildly,' Bill said with clenched teeth. He palmed his face in his hands and rubbed it, muttering softly to himself.

'Grief can do strange things to people,' Daphne tried to console him.

Bill pulled his hands away with a harsh laugh and looked at Daphne. 'True, but I never would've imagined that it'll destroy our family.'

Of course, I knew what he was alluding to; the talk we had had with Hermione the previous day was still fresh on my mind. I admit, I rather would have faced the Hungarian Horntail once again than to have this talk with Bill and Mr Weasley. I took another deep breath, summoned all my courage, and looked at Mr Weasley.

'Hermione told us what happened before she left _The Burrow_. I - I'm sorry, sir.'

The lines of sadness and defeat in his face deepened, but he nodded in acknowledgement of my words.

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room, in which the faint noises of the talks and laughter from the taproom and the traffic on Charing Cross Road seemed to be unnaturally loud. Daphne gave me another small nudge with her knee, reminding me why we were here. I cleared my throat and continued our story.

'Daphne and I went back on board of the _Princess Isabella_ in Hong Kong. A day later or so I got another disturbing letter from Ginny. It accused me of cheating on her with Daphne, and talked about a bond Ginny and I shared. I have no idea what else was in that letter: I was rather angry about it and vanished it.'

'That's not the whole truth, love,' my wife interjected. 'You crumpled the letter to a ball, and it vanished from the palm of your hand in a bout of accidentally magic.'

Once again, my face became warm, but thankfully neither Bill nor Mr Weasley paid heed to my embarrassment.

Bill's eyebrows shot up. 'Was it that bad? What the hell had got into her?'

I took a sip from my tea to regain my composure. At Bill's words, I put the cup back onto the saucer and nodded in agreement.

'That were exactly our thoughts. Another letter I got from Hermione on the same day shed some light on the matter. It seemed that Ginny had told her and Ron…' Once again, the heat shot into my cheeks, and I found myself unable to go on.

Daphne took mercy on me. She pressed my hand, gave me a small smile, and turned to Bill and Mr Weasley. 'In her letter, Hermione accused Harry of having talked Ginny into sleeping with him, and turning his back on her as soon as he got what he wanted.'

My cheeks probably were crimson by then; they burnt so hot. I squared my shoulders and looked Mr Weasley and Bill into the eyes. 'I never touched her that way,' I told them, though I had no hope that they would believe me.

I couldn't trust my ears when Mr Weasley exchanged another look with his heir, and they both began to chuckle. That was not what I'd expected. I exchanged a quick look with Daphne. She looked as surprised as I felt by their unexpected reaction.

'My wi... - Molly is very protective of Ginny. After all, she's our only daughter. From the day she was born, Molly used to dream of the wonderful future she expected for her daughter,' Mr Weasley said. He gave me an apologising look. 'I swear, she had Ginny's wedding to the Boy-Who-Lived planned out in every detail by the time Ginny turned six.' He fidgeted with the spoon on his saucer, obviously collecting his thoughts, and then continued, 'When Ginny left for Hogwarts, Molly insisted on putting a Virginity Ward on her. She got even stricter with that demand as soon as Ginny began dating boys. In Molly's view of the world a girl who's not pure on her wedding day is the biggest imaginable disgrace.'

I grimaced inwardly at his words, remembering the talk I had about this topic with Daphne.

Mr Weasley gave me a helpless look. 'You know how my w… - Molly is, Harry. It was no use fighting with her over this topic, so I let her have her way. But I can assure you that the wards still were in place by the time we returned to _The Burrow_ after the Battle.' A small grin appeared on his face. 'To make a long story short, Harry: even if you'd tried something, you wouldn't have come very far; the ward saw to that.'

'That's why you never challenged Harry,' Daphne exclaimed. 'I'd been wondering about that: Hermione, Ron, and in the beginning even George seemed to believe what Ginny told them. Even though you don't care much about Pureblood conduct, this was such a serious accusation that you ought to have challenged Harry, had you believed it to be true.' Her forehead wrinkled in thought. 'What I don't get: after what George and Hermione told us, and the way she acted, Mrs Weasley also seemed to believe that Harry had… uh… sampled the goods without being entitled to that. But she had to know it wasn't true.'

I nodded to that.

Mr Wesley and Bill shared another look. Mr Weasley took deep breath. 'You wouldn't know it, Harry, but my wi… Molly, well, she -' He interrupted himself and blinked a few times. When he went on, his voice was unsteady. 'You wouldn't know it, Harry, but Molly has changed a lot since you've left _The Burrow._ She isn't the woman you knew anymore. The loss of F-fred has made her spiteful, and she wants to punish those she thinks responsible for that.' His eyes didn't meet mine.

Beside me, Daphne made an involuntary sharp move and gasped. 'You mean, she blames Harry, don't you?'

Mr Weasley nodded, though his eyes still evaded mine. He gulped and opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head.

Bill put his hand on his father's shoulder in silent comfort. 'She thinks the Weasley family, and especially she, Ron and Ginny are entitled to - uh, how to put that? - compensation from you because of the losses we've suffered. A few days after the battle she demanded from dad that he'd negotiate a marriage contract between you and Ginevra -'

'How could I do that?' Mr Weasley said and looked up. 'I have no doubt you would've agreed, Harry, as besotted as you were with Ginny, not to mention that you felt guilty about F-fred and would've done anything I asked of you. I couldn't exploit your feelings like that. Molly got furious when I told her. She became even worse when it became apparent that your and Ginny's relationship wouldn't last, and on the day you left _The Burrow_ …' He broke up, and once again shook his head in a helpless gesture.

Bill picked up from there. 'Right from the day you've left I had the impression that something in Ginevra's behaviour didn't add up. I've seen how she seemed to avoid you during the last two weeks before your breakup, and yet she was heartbroken and talked about little else than how to get you back. Our mother encouraged her.'

'Molly demanded to call you out because of your breakup. Of course I refused. It was plain to see that she was still beside herself with grief and not the woman anymore we all used to know and loved.' Mr Weasley shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture. 'The things she called me after that … Needless to say our marriage took a turn to the south from that day on, and it doesn't seem as if we'll ever recover from that.' He propped his elbows on the table and buried his face in the palms of his hands.

His son put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'From that day on, we couldn't get to m… Molly anymore. It's as if she lives in a parallel reality, and is kept alive only by her hatred on you for the perceived slights on our family, Harry. Even worse, she'd got Ginevra and Ron under her influence. At first, George too, but when he overcame the first stages of grief and decided to live for F-fred's memory, he quickly became as appalled by her behaviour as the rest of us and moved out.'

Mr. Weasley lowered his hands and looked at us with moist eyes. 'Molly took our family grimoire out of our vault. She spent her days locked into our bedroom, pouring over old potions recipes my ancestors had developed. It became an obsession for her, and she drew Ginny into it. I tried to break her out of it, even took the grimoire away …' He shook his head. 'She hexed me. I had to spend three days at St Mungo's. Unfortunately, I had no other place to return to than _The Burrow_ , but I moved my things out of our bedroom when I did. I don't thing I've spoken more than ten words with either Molly, Ginny or Ron since then.'

Bill gave his father's shoulder another squeeze. 'You know you're welcome to stay with Fleur and me at Shell Cottage anytime, dad.'

Mr Weasley gave him a thankful smile and shook his head. 'An old man like me doesn't mix well with a young couple, son.'

Bill huffed at that, but decided not to press the matter. Instead he turned to me. 'We digress. I suppose your story doesn't end at that?'

I shook my head. 'Unfortunately, no. There were daily letters from then on, each one full of imagined sexual encounters between Ginny and me. They were disgusting, however, eventually the tone of the letters changed. They became creepy, threatening even. Frankly, I'm afraid Ginny will try to kill Daphne, and probably also harm me, at the first chance she gets.'

Father and son exchanged a look, though, they didn't seem to be surprised about my fears.

Mr Weasley heaved a big sigh. 'I'd also be afraid. Thank you for telling us instead of involving the Aurors. What do you want us to do?'

The tension left me all of a sudden, and warmth spread through my body. I gave Mr Weasley my first, genuine smile of the day. He'd probably never know how I thankful I was for the opening he gave me.

'I think Ginny needs help instead of punishment. I want her to get treatment; I know an excellent Squib psychotherapist, and I'm willing to fund the bills, if there's a problem. She and Ron also need to be removed from the influence of their mother, I think. It's safe to say Mrs Weasley helped Ginny and Ron using Love Potions on Hermione and me, and Hermione told us she was the driving force behind their visit to Colombo; in her current state I wouldn't put it past her she also tries to influence her youngest children with, uh, questionable means.'

Bill sagged in his chair and let out deep breath; Mr Weasley, however, avoided my eyes. He shook his head as if in denial, and a long sigh escaped his lips.

'Thank you, Harry, I really appreciate your offer. Given what Ginny did to your future wife, the offer is much more than she deserves. However, I'll need Ginny's consent to the treatment and her moving out of _The Burrow_. Molly will also have to have her say. I doubt either Ginny or Molly will show regret or even a willingness to take your offer, and I doubt Ron will be willing to leave _The Burrow,_ either.'

'You can order them as their head of house,' Bill said. 'However, they can't be so deluded to think they'd get away with Ginny casting the Killing Curse.'

Again, Mr Weasley shook his head. 'Bill, you've seen how they are, how far they've moved from us. I doubt they'll bow to my authority any longer.'

'Then cast them out,' Bill said. It was a brutal suggestion, and Mr Weasley flinched at his words, still, I couldn't blame Bill, I'd also have considered that step in his place.

However, did Mr Weasley have the guts for such a drastic step? After everything I'd seen of him today I doubted that. He was a kind man, too kind probably, he'd never reigned in his wife or his children. Following Bill's suggestion was out of character for him.

Daphne must have come to the same conclusion. She cleared her throat and leaned forward. 'You may tell your daughter and Mrs Weasley that Ginny getting treatment is not up for negotiations. It's either that, or Ginny will have to face persecution. Harry and I have collected evidence right after the incident. I'm afraid, we'll have to hand that evidence to the Aurors if Ginny doesn't comply.'

Mr Weasley jumped as if bitten, then he slumped again in defeat. 'Of course, I can't blame you for that. I'll tell them.'

He got to his feet. Everything about him betrayed defeat, like a man who knew that he was going into a battle he was going to lose.

I shared some of his forebodings. Ron, Ginny and their mother were all stubborn and temperamental. It would be hard to get them to change their course when their minds were made up.

Mr Weasley held out his hand to me. 'Thank you once again for talking to me first and not informing the Aurors.'

I had no idea what to answer to that, so I just nodded and shook his hand.

When he bowed over Daphne's hand, my wife said, 'I've been informed that the Minister appointed the Greengrass seat on the Wizengamot to you until my twenty-first birthday. I'm doing some research of the families behind hereditary seats right now and wonder if you'd let me access the records of the Wizengamot my father kept at his office in the Ministry?'

I had to bit on the inside of my cheek. Situations like this reminded me my wife was a Slytherin, her sweet and caring disposition notwithstanding. Like any Slytherin, she knew how to use an opportunity. There was no way Mr Weasley would deny her access to the records after the talk we just had had.

'Of course, my dear,' Mr Weasley said and patted her hand. 'Just send me an owl and I'll let you into the office.' He blushed under the broad smile of thanks Daphne gave him.

We left the room together. Mr Weasley Flooed to the Ministry; Bill gave both of us a handshake and a weak smile that told more than words how much my story had shaken him. He set off to the entry to Diagon Alley in a brisk pace.

Daphne and I followed him, although a great deal slower. The wall had already closed behind Bill again when we reached the backyard.

Daphne took my arm and snuggled against me while I counted the bricks. 'Do you think he'll be successful?'

I sighed and shook my head.

'You're afraid they are too stubborn, and Ginny and her mother have already drifted too far away, aren't you?' Daphne said.

Once again I was amazed how well she could read me, and I nodded.

Daphne squeezed my arm; there was nothing more to say on the topic.

We reached the entrance to Gringotts, and Daphne let go of my arm. 'Meet me for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron?' she asked.

I bent down to kiss her. 'You've got a date, Mrs Potter.'

We parted ways; I had an appointment with my manager at Gringotts, and Daphne walked further down the alley towards the offices of Greengrass Shipping. She'd told me during our last days on the _Princess Isabella that_ the offices were located at the end of Diagon Alley that was opposite to the Leaky Cauldron. Like the pub, the offices were one of the few places in the alley from where you could enter the Muggle world. There was also an enchanted brick wall in the backyard that served as a passage. From there you had access to the Muggle offices of Greengrass Shipping, which were on St. Martins Lane.

If Steelaxe, my goblin manager, was happy to see me, he hid it well. He was not happy when I told him about my marriage, and I had to suffer through a long lecture about the idiocy to marry without a proper prenuptial agreement.

He was even less impressed when I told him to make arrangements for a monthly payment into Daphne's vault. However, as my wife she was entitled to that by the Potter House Charta, so he could do nothing about it. That didn't keep him from grumbling and hissing under his breath while he filed out the paperwork for me to sign.

He perked up, however, when I told him to look into our shipping contracts and shift business to Greengrass Shipping. 'Of course they'll have to meet our standards, and their prices have to be within our limits,' I added, and was treated to the disconcerting sight of a goblin shaking with laughter.

'Of course,' he repeated. 'Might as well keep the gold within in the family.'

'Exactly,' I replied.

'You're a heir after your grandfather's heart, Harry,' he said. Meanwhile I knew that was high praise, and I thanked him accordingly.

We went through a few investments that had come up recently, and parted on best terms shortly before Daphne and my usual lunchtime.

She already waited for me at a table in a corner of the pub when I rushed into the tabroom. The pub was crowded, as usual at this time of the day, and of course many of the patrons recognised me when I weaved my way to my wife through the crowd. My shoulders burned from the many friendly slabs I received, and my right hand throbbed from all the handshakes. One elderly witch even went so far to hug me and kiss my cheek. I'm sure I still looked like a beacon when I finally slipped into the seat next to Daphne. Her amused smile didn't help to make me feel better.

'Did you enjoy your big entrance?,' she asked with a twinkle in her eyes and kissed me.

'Rub it in,' I said and rolled my eyes at her.

She pushed a bottle of Butterbeer towards me. I picked it up and took a long gulp to drown my embarrassment.

My wife watched me drinking, her elbows popped up on the table, and her chin rested on the backs of her neatly overlapping hands. 'Poor baby. Look at it from the bright side: if you were a Muggle rock star, the women would throw their knickers at you.'

I snorted, inhaled Butterbeer the wrong way, and spent the next minute coughing and spluttering.

'Steelaxe was right, you are a black widow,' I said when I was able to speak again.

'Excuse me?' She lowered her Butterbeer bottle and raised an inquiring eyebrow at me. 'Who is Steelaxe?'

'My goblin manager. He's afraid you've married me to get at my gold and warned me about black widows. Seems one Marie-Madeleine Zabini is especially skilled it that regard, he told me. Wasn't her son Blaise your housemate?'

Now it was Daphne's turn to splutter.

I still sniggered into my Butterbeer when Hannah served us some delicious smelling shepherd's pie.

Daphne picked up her cutlery, gave me a look that lent credence to Steelaxe's suspicion, and tucked into her lunch.

'I love you, too,' I said and followed her example.

Over the meal we talked about our respective mornings and our plans for the afternoon. I had another appointment, this time at my Muggle bank. Daphne had planned on having a first, tentative look at new furniture for Grimmauld Place, and returning early to prepare for our dinner with Kingsley and Hestia. However, that plans got cancelled.

'I got an owl from Hermione,' she told me. 'She wants to talk to me, to get a woman's point of view. That was a quote.'

I put my cutlery on my empty plate and wiped my mouth. 'Are you going to meet her?'

She nodded at that. 'She needs to make an informed decision soon. I doubt there's any other woman she feels comfortable enough to talk to.'

'That's nice of you, given how she behaved towards you in Colombo.'

Daphne shrugged. 'That's in the past, she apologised, and she meant it. Hermione is important to you, so I'd like to have a fresh start with her. Listening to her and giving her some advice when she's in a tight spot takes little effort on my part, but will take her and me far in becoming friends.'

My breath caught, and my heart made a somersault. If I weren't already deeply in love with her, I would've fallen for her head over heels there and then. I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards me. 'Thank you; you're wonderful.'

Her cheeks glowed; she turned her head and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. 'Take off your pink glasses, love; I'm not a saint. You also gave Tracey and Theodore a second chance, even though Theo treated you like scum at Hogwarts.' She gave me another peck and pulled away. 'I have to go, I'm afraid.'

I made a face at that, but signalled Hannah for the bill.

My appointment at the Muggle bank didn't last as long as my meeting with Steelaxe that morning. If my bank manager had reservations about my surprise marriage, he hid them well, and he expressed his thoughts on my lack of a prenuptial agreement much more politer than the goblin. We went on with our business; everything was alright, the only bit of news interesting to me was that I'd have to attend to a meeting at the headquarters of _Aurora Beauty_ in Paris on the sixth. That suited me just fine; I had already plans that included a short trip to Paris on Daphne's birthday that was on the seventh, anyway. I doubted she'd object if we had to leave for France one day sooner than I'd planned.

Daphne was not yet back when I returned to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher was puttering around in the kitchen. I'd never seen the old elf that happy and contend: he smiled and hummed a little tune while he chopped vegetables and dressed a chunk of meat for the pot roast he planned on serving for tonight's dinner.

I prepared myself a mug of tea; Kreacher wasn't impressed with my show of domestic independence, but didn't object, either, as busy as he was with the preparations for tonight's dinner. I snatched a few biscuits out of the tin in the pantry and settled down on the sofa in the family room.

While I sipped my tea and nibbled on the biscuits, I wondered how the talk between Daphne and Hermione was going. I was still trying to wrap my thoughts around the momentous news Hermione had told us yesterday.

Her breakup with Ron was unexpected, though not entirely surprising. I'd always suspected they were too different to last long, once the first fire had burnt out.

More surprising was the news that Hermione was pregnant; I'd never thought her the kind of woman to become pregnant as long as she hadn't finished her education and climbed a few steps on the ladder in her chosen career. However, the commonly known ways of magical contraception were anything but failproof, my knowledgeable wife had taught me, so I probably shouldn't be surprised, either. While Hermione would have done her part, I wouldn't put my chips on Ron having performed the additional spells correctly.

What I still couldn't fathom was the idea of Hermione and Neville being an item. Yet, the longer I thought about it, the more sense it made. They'd always got along well; Hermione and Neville had been friends before she became friends with Ron and me, and she'd turned towards him every time Ron and I behaved like typical teenage boys towards her. Hadn't she been the one he wanted to take to the Yule Ball?

There was no doubt Neville had feelings for Hermione. His feelings were returned, I knew Hermione well enough to be sure about that. Right now, however, she wasn't able to see the obvious, as troubled as she was by her pregnancy and her inability to reverse the Memory Charm she'd put on her parents.

Even more troubling were the repercussions her pregnancy out of wedlock could have for my best friend. I was only too familiar with Hermione's stubbornness; this was like S.P.E.W. all over: she'd rather go on a crusade for Witch's Liberation than to think of herself.

I was still racking my brain how to make her see reason when Daphne returned home.

She plopped down into the sofa next to me and kissed me. 'Seems like you missed me,' she said when we came up for air.

'Not more than you obviously missed me,' I replied and rested my chin on top of her head. 'Tell me, how did it go?'

Daphne huffed. 'Your friend is the typical stubborn Gryffindor. She's as bad as you: not an ounce of self-preservation.' She rolled her eyes at me. 'However, I think I made her see reason.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'You Stunned and Imperiused her?'

My ribs came into contact with my wife's sharp elbow, while Daphne snorted with laughter.

'You're such a prat,' she said when she'd calmed down. 'I did nothing like that, though I was tempted. I just pointed out that there's no need to become a martyr, she'd have plenty of time to fight against outdated notions that already belonged into the wastebin fifty years ago once the baby's born. I even offered her to support her in that fight as soon as I've taken my seat on the Wizengamot. I also told her you and Neville would most likely support us, and that she'd have a much bigger audience as Mrs Longbottom than as Miss Granger. That got her thinking.'

'Well done, love.' I bent down to give her a kiss in congratulations.

Daphne put her hand on my chest and forestalled me. 'Not so fast, love. There's still a problem.'

'And that is?'

'Neville told his grandmother about his plans. It seems Mrs Longbottom isn't excited about his plan.'

My insides became cold, and I gaped at Daphne. 'You must be joking, she never struck me as someone who'd raise objections if Neville married a Muggleborn.'

Daphne shook her head. 'I'm sure it's not that. Nevertheless, she's a Pureblood, and our traditions are precious to her. I think it bothers her Hermione has no one on by her side to negotiate and sign the contract. That makes her a nobody without standing. In the eyes of the light Pureblood families that'll reflect badly on Neville and the reputation of House Longbottom.'

I groaned. 'Another of those outdated notions. I bet that went over well with Hermione.'

My wife snuggled against me. 'Don't be daft, love. All she knows is that Neville's grandmother doesn't approve of her, and she's hesitant to take Neville's offer because of that. I'm not dumb enough to tell her about the reasons behind old Mrs Longbottom's reservations.'

'Thank Merlin!' I rolled my eyes heavenwards.

Daphne took a look at her wristwatch, straightened in my arms, and gave me a peck on the cheek. 'Come on, love, we'll need to get ready. Our guests will be here in not even an hour.'

I got to my feet and followed her out of the room. Daphne stopped in the kitchen to check on Kreacher and the progress of our dinner. By the delicious aroma of the potroast that wafted through the kitchen, and the adoring look Kreacher gave her, I decided she had everything well in hand and walked up to our bedroom.

While I took a shower and dressed, I couldn't get rid of the idea that Daphne had told me about Mrs Longbottom's reservations against the planned marriage contract for a reason. She'd hid it well, but the covert glance she'd given me when so got up to talk to Kreacher was a dead give away. We hadn't spent the last four months in close proximity for nothing: by now I could read her almost as well as she could read me. She expected me to do something to alleviate Mrs Longbottom's reservations, and if I wasn't mistaken, my sly wife expected me to solve the problem of my own, after all the tutoring she gave me about the wizarding world.

Bugger! I still was pants at things like that. Oh well, I would have to give the problem some more thought. I'd be damned if I disappointed Daphne's faith in me.

Daphne came into the bedroom when I was almost ready, took another look at her watch, shrieked, and dashed into the bathroom. Not even fifteen minutes later she came out, wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair done up and with perfect make-up, and vanished into the walk-in wardrobe.

I raised my eyebrows. 'I had no idea you could be that fast, love. On board you took at least thirty minutes to get ready for dinner.'

She came out of the wardrobe, now in a simple black sheath dress with matching high heels, stuck out her tongue at me and turned her back to me. 'Be a dear and pull up the zipper.'

'I'd rather not,' I said, complied nevertheless.

'You've got a one-track-mind,' my wife informed me. She took me by the arm and pulled me towards the door. 'Come on, our guests will be here any minute.'

Kingsley's face when I introduced Daphne as my wife was as priceless as Alveerah's when we told her about our wedding plans, and once again I cursed myself for not having thought of bringing a camera with me. I'm sure _The Daily Prophet_ would have paid me a small fortune for a photo of a gaping Minister for Magic, resplendent purple robes and all.

'Close your mouth, sweetheart,' Hestia chuckled. She came forward and hugged first Daphne, then me. 'My heartfelt congratulations to both of you. There's no need to ask you if you're happy, you're both glowing with happiness.'

Kingsley blinked, apparently he still needed some time to recover. He took Daphne's hand and gave her a formal bow and a kiss on the knuckles. 'My congratulations, Mrs Potter.'

'Call me Daphne, Minister. Harry told me everything about the plans you've made for the betterment of our society, so I expect we'll see a lot of each other in the next twenty years.'

Kingsley let out his booming laugh. 'Thank you, Daphne. Nothing of that "Minister" stuff; call me Kingsley.' He turned to me and gave me a slap on the shoulder that made my knees buckle. 'My congratulations.'

He stiffened, as if a sudden thought hit him, and turned back to Daphne. 'Wait, Daphne? As in formerly Daphne Greengrass?'

My wife nodded at that.

Kingsley's face sobered. 'I knew your father. It's a shame about him, he was one of the few honourable and incorruptible members of the Wizengamot.'

'Thank you, Kingsley,' Daphne said and bit her lips.

I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. 'You have to thank Daphne that I'm not as ignorant as a newborn about the ongoings of the Wizengamot anymore. Her father taught her well, and she took it upon herself to tutor me, though I still have a lot to learn.'

'Is that so?' Kingsley's gaze became calculating as he looked from me to Daphne. 'You wrote you have something important to discuss with me.'

'We have,' Daphne interrupted him. 'But let's eat first, and talk later. Potroast and politics don't mix well.'

We laughed and followed her into the kitchen. Over dinner, we had to tell Hestia everything about how we got together. She was also very interested in the many sights we'd seen during our cruise.

'That sounds lovely,' she said. 'I think I'd like a cruise for our honeymoon.'

Kingsley let out a fake sigh and mock-glared at me. 'Thank you very much for giving my fiancée ideas.'

We all laughed at that. Nevertheless, Hestia gave him a playful slap on the arm. 'You're supposed to fulfil my wishes, you know.'

Her fiancé wasn't deterred by that. 'Someone must've forgot to put that into the job description for future husbands when I proposed.'

Soon after we moved to the family room for coffee and desert.

'Tell me, what is it you want to discuss with me, Harry?' Kingsley asked as soon as Daphne had handed him a cup of coffee.

Hestia rolled her eyes at him, but kept her mouth shut.

I took a cup of coffee from Daphne and made myself comfortable beside her on the love seat. 'Well, something Daphne explained to me about the laws concerning the Wizengamot got me thinking.' I pulled out my wand, Summoned the list of the dark families that might have forfeited their seats because of the crimes of their Head of Houses from the desk in my study, and handed it to Kingsley.

He put his coffee cup on the low table between us, put on his glasses and studied the list for long, tantalising minutes. When he looked up, there was a broad grin on his face. 'That's brilliant, Harry. I don't doubt we'll be able to wrestle the seats from the majority of the families you've listed here, even if only for the time until the majority of the next heir. However, that enables us to get some much needed changes into motion.'

Daphne gave me a proud side glance. 'That's not yet everything,' she said to Kingsley. 'Harry also came up with an idea to get a few seats from the corruptible Ministry old-boy network. He plans on funding the hereditary test for all Muggleborns we can think of, in the hopes to find some of the heirs of the supposedly extinct families.'

'Don't sell yourself short, love,' I told her and hugged her to myself. 'You should see her research project on the original sixty family seats of the Wizengamot, and their heirs. We're positive the Ministry snatched a couple of seats they're not entitled to, especially under the Bagnold administration. If we can prove there are still heirs to the seats, we can cut off a lot of power from the old-boy network. That'll make your job at the Ministry easier.'

Kingsley gaped at us for a full minute. 'You're both unbelievable,' he said at length. 'How can I help you?'

'I need a list of all Muggleborn students of Hogwarts of the last eighty years,' I said.

Kingsley took a deep breath. 'It'll be on your desk tomorrow evening.'

 _t.b.c._


End file.
